Wizard of Oz: The Punk Cover
by Awkward and the Muse
Summary: What the Wizard of Oz would look like if I were a screenwriter. Mostly follows the movie, but I added in a bit from the book and a lot from my own imagination. I only wished I owned the rights to this.
1. Chapter 1: In which Toto bites someone

The fact that everyone within a mile could hear her music clearly without the added aid of her headphones didn't bother DJ one whit. Music was all about communication after all, and DJ was determined to communicate that she had better taste in tunes and didn't care enough to hear anyone else's opinion as far as the topic of melodic composition went. The funny looks she got from passing cars didn't bother her either. The only opinion she really cared about was Toto's, and he tended to agree with her.

Toto had just returned to her side, after having taken a side trip as they passed by Elmira Gulch's yard, presumably to chase cats, as he did most days. DJ had to smile at the thought. Toto was barely bigger than his quarry, and actually smaller than some of the mangy felines he ran around after, but that didn't daunt him at all. He was the fiercest little wolf dog DJ had ever seen, which was precisely why she had picked him out of his litter, despite his size. She wanted a pet with some spirit, and that's what she had gotten.

"Dorothy Jean Gale!" cried Aunt Em as the duo neared the rustic farmhouse where they resided. Aunt Em stood waiting for them on the steps, but DJ hesitated, unsure of what would happen next. Aunt Em was the only person who called her by her full name (which she despised) and so it was hard to tell if this title was currently being used as a term of endearment or as an expression of anger. It turned out to be the latter.

"I got off the phone with Elmira Gulch a minute ago, and she says that Toto bit her just now," Aunt Em proclaimed as them approached. She crossed her arms, awaiting her niece's reply.

DJ was impassive. "So?" she questioned calmly, unable to see why this pertained to her. As far as she was concerned, the old witch got what she deserved. She made a mental not to reward her puppy later.

"So? So it's unacceptable! You can't just let that dog run around wild biting people."

"He didn't bite a person. He bit Gulch. There's a difference. If you should feel sorry for anyone, it's Toto. Poor boy probably has a bad taste in his mouth now." DJ bent down to pat her dog's head as she said this, and he replied to her attention with a short, happy yelp.

Aunt Em looked to furious to reply for several seconds. After flailing her arms wordless for a few moments, she took a deep breath and hissed out her reply as best she could in her current state. "Inside. Now."

DJ decided that this time it might be better to obey her aunt's wishes. Sometimes she felt bad for her aunt, as well as her uncle, for having to put up with her while her parents traveled around, doing all sorts of exciting things without her. She knew she could be a pain sometimes, especially to a couple as old and set in their ways as Em and Henry. Then again, sometimes they could just be so damn stubborn that she wanted to run screaming from their Kansas farm, preferably after planting a bomb somewhere on the premises.

After crossing the threshold, DJ was informed that her scolding would commence as soon as Uncle Henry returned from doing some work in the barn, and in the meantime she might try to make herself look less like a hobo. DJ looked down at her clothing. She had spent the morning baby-sitting a pair of unruly eight year old twins from two farms down, and as a consequence, was smeared head to foot in muck from the game of Mud-ball that had ensued. DJ was tempted to remind her aunt that this wouldn't happen if she would be allowed to get a job better than watching other people's little brats, but wisely concluded that now might not be the best time.

After a quick shower, DJ proceed to dress in one of her favorite outfits, a just-short-enough skirt complimented by a low slung belt and a matching black corseted tank top. She also donned a pair of red and gray striped knee-high socks and proceeded to put her hair in pigtails to complete the school girl look. She turned to Toto, who was currently sitting on her bed. "What do you think? Too jail-bait?"

Toto yelped what may or may not have been a confirmation. DJ decided the hair was a bit too much, shook down her mid-length mahogany hair, and complimented her dog on his excellent taste. She looked out the window and was glad to see the clouds still matched her mood. There had been wind and talk of tornados all week, though none had appeared yet. DJ didn't mind. She like cloudy, gusty days such as this, even if it did mean that her and her friends' plan for a bonfire would have to be postponed till the sky cleared. It was just as well, considering that she was probably about to be grounded. DJ rolled her eyes at the thought. Who still got grounded at 18? Stupid, strict, red-neck relatives. College could not come soon enough.

Becoming lost in a happy daydream of a distant school filled with hunky coeds, DJ ideally paced her room, until picking up a katana that her parents had sent her after a visit to China. After that, the daydream changed to include her defending her dream school from hoards of undead zombies who had previously been hunky coeds. She twirled the blade, narrowly avoiding cutting off her own hands. She really should practice a bit more with this thing. Then again, it would be interesting to see how her parents would react if they found out their gift had maimed their daughter. Aunt Em had certainly been horrified enough when she first saw it.

As if on cue, DJ heard her aunt's voice from the living room. However, instead of summoning her, as she expected, it was inviting someone inside. DJ crept to the door and opened it a crack to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"So, where are those horrid little creatures?" she heard an ancient, raspy voice demand. She was slightly unnerved. What was Gulch doing her?

Despite her earlier irritation at her niece, Aunt Em got defensive in a hurry. "One of those 'horrid little creatures' is my niece, Elmira. And the other one is her favorite thing in this world, so I would suggest you keep your phraseology a tad more civil while in this house." DJ would have cheered if it wouldn't have given away her spying. Aunt Em continued, "Henry will be in shortly. We'll discuss everything then."

"I didn't come here to be left waiting," growled the old hag.

"Then don't bother too," replied the voice of Uncle Henry. DJ heard the screen door open and shut to admit him. "What can we do for you, Elmira?"

"You can fetch that little scam you shelter and her filthy mutt and bring them both here at once. I've got a problem with them and, one way or another, I'm solving that problem today."

DJ thought she heard Uncle Henry sigh, and was certain she heard the heavy thump of his boots coming down the hall towards her room. She quickly went to sit on the bed and acted as if she'd been there the whole time. There was a knock, and then the door swung open.

Uncle Henry glanced at his niece, smiled, and mouthed the word "jailbait." DJ smiled back. Uncle Henry was gruff enough, for sure, but was also fairly easy going most of the time. Still, it was time to be serious, and Henry's smile quickly faded to a grimace.

"I know you were listening in, so come along now." DJ winced at the thought of being found out, but proceeded to stand up and head towards the living room. "Oh, DJ," Uncle Henry added. "Leave the sword."

Well, it had been worth a try. DJ put the weapon back in its decorative sheath and followed her uncle and Toto towards the women in the other room. Upon seeing the little dark grey wolf dog, Gulch immediately grabbed him and stuffed him in a cat carrier she had brought with her.

"Hey! What the hell-" DJ started forward, but Uncle Henry held her back.

"Elmira?" he questioned, obviously just as surprised, but not wanting to start a ruckus with the demonic old woman.

"Don't give me any lip now. I've got a note straight from the sheriff and all. That dog bit me, and I want that thing euthanized and tested for rabies."

"Wait," cried DJ. "Euthanized as in killed?! No! You can't! He doesn't have rabies! You evil bitch!" She struggled against her uncle's hold.

Aunt Em, with shaky hands, accepted the piece of paper Gulch offered her and read it to herself. "It's true," she said quietly, upon finishing it. She sat down on the couch, giving her niece a look of sympathy that told DJ there was nothing to be done about it. From inside the cage, Toto was yelping like crazy, trying to get back to his owner.

"See now, little girl," criticized Gulch, "Maybe this will teach you to train your pets better." She turned to examine something on the wall. Despite her uncle firm hold, DJ took the opportunity give the old woman the finger, realizing too late that the object being examined was a mirror, and realizing a second later that she didn't care.

Gulch, on the other hand, whipped around furiously, showing surprising speed for a person her age. "Why you ill-mannered, wicked girl!" She grabbed the cage and slammed her way out the door, ignoring the howls of both pet and master as she left.

DJ was finally able to break her uncle's choke hold, and ran immediately back to her room, grabbed the already-at-hand katana, and spun out the door after them. She didn't know what she intended to do, but she wouldn't sit passively by while her best friend was driven off to be murdered. Still, by the time she reached the yard, Gulch had already driven off, and her aunt and uncle were grabbing her and stuffing her back inside the house. Distraught beyond consolation, DJ ran back to her room, crying, locked the door, and threw herself down on the bed to morn.

Although she intended to stay locked away forever, weeping over the loss of her dog, after about an hour DJ found herself out of tears. At this time, Aunt Em came and knocked quietly on the door.

"Dorothy, honey," she called softly. "Why don't you come out and try to eat something?"

DJ didn't reply, and eventually, she heard her aunt walk away. "How could she have?" DJ though. "How could she and Uncle Henry have just stood by and let her take away Toto like that?" DJ would have vowed revenge on both of them right then, if she hadn't suddenly heard a familiar yelp coming from atop the woodpile that sat just outside of her window.

"Toto!" she exclaimed, throwing the window wide open and pulling her fierce little monster inside. She forgot to shut the window, although her subconscious noted what her conscious could not about the sudden speed and ferocity of the wind. "How did you escape?"

Toto simply barked again, knowing full well that his mistress would never know about how he chewed his way through the flimsy, plastic latch of the pet carrier and almost managed to snap off Elmira Gulch's ugly nose as she attempted to remove him from the car.

At that moment, and for the second time that day, DJ heard her uncle's boot's coming down the hall. Since she was still mad at him, and didn't want to risk Toto being taken away again, DJ decided to do something particularly childish, and hid inside the closet.

To her uncle, things looked much worse as he enter the room, saw no sign of DJ, and the window standing open. He ran back to the kitchen, where his wife was waiting. "Em," he exclaimed. "Dorothy's gone!"

"What?" Aunt Em stood up in a panic. "You mean she ran away!?"

"It looks like it."

"Well, we've got to find her, Henry! We've got to find her before this tornado hits!"

"I know, I know!" shouted her husband. "You check to the north, I'll go south, and we'll meet back at the cellar in half an hour."

Over the rising sound of the wind, DJ heard nothing of this conversation, nor her aunt and uncle calling her name through the fields in vain. From the closet, she didn't hear them meeting up at the cellar with tears in their eyes, or breaking and continuing the search until it was almost too late. She didn't know that they were both crying as they climbed into the space under the barn, and she defiantly couldn't guess that, even as they bolted the doors, they were praying their dear niece had found a safe place to take shelter. She was too glorying in her victory, and plotting her revenge against the evil Ms. Gulch, unaware of the storm raging outside.


	2. Chapter 2: In which there aren't chips

DJ didn't realize how foolish she had been until about an hour after she had first shut herself away in the closet. It was at this time that she opened the door, intent on sneaking a bag of chips from the kitchen. The fact that the house was shaking hadn't registered in her brain over her happiness, and it wasn't until she saw a tornado touching down a few miles off outside of her window that she even realized there was a storm outside.

DJ instantly slammed the closet door shut again, all thoughts of fried potato goodness driven from her mind. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and started working out what to do next. Her first thought was, of course, to run to the cellar, but she quickly threw that out. The last thing she wanted to do was go outside with a tornado on the ground. The house itself had no basement, or any other floor for that matter, and it was quickly realized that the best thing she could do was stay put. The closet in which she hid was centrally located on the lowest level of the house and had no windows. It was about as safe as anywhere else in the farmhouse. DJ hoped that the twister would jump back up again soon, and pass over the house without touching down too close.

Most of DJ's hopes tended not to come true.

After a period of waiting so long she lost track of time, DJ felt the house stop shaking apart around her, and heard the wind die down. Nervously, she opened the door of the closet, and surveyed the damage, scrambling upright to go stand in the middle of her room. Toto scurried out afterwards, and jumped up on the window sill.

The first thing she saw was her room itself. Because she had left the window open, her posters had blown off the wall and were no scattered across the floor like neon leafs. Any smallish, lightweight item that had been lying around was now somewhere that was more or less exactly where it wasn't supposed to be. It would be a mess to clean up, but it wasn't bad. The only things broken were the collection of porcelain dolls her mother sent her anytime she passed a store selling them. DJ was not sorry to lose the things. She always thought they were ugly and creepy, and she only kept them out because Aunt Em thought they were cute and told her it would be rude not to.

The damage outside was much worse. DJ could see at least two trees that had been uprooted, and every crop as far as the eye could see was almost entirely destroyed. At least the sky looked like it had finally calmed down from its temper tantrum. Everything was calm and peaceful just like it would be in the…

"Eye of the storm!" yelled DJ as the house began to start swaying again. "Back in the closet, Toto!"

The dog barked in reply and jumped down from his perch. Wishing to avoid any more damage to her room, DJ decided now might be a good time to shut the window. She grappled with it for about ten seconds, before figuring out it was stuck. They were passing out of the eye quickly now, and the storm was starting to heat up again in a hurry. Desperate, she gave the window one last shove, lost her grip, tripped over her own feet trying to regain her balance, swore as she fell, and finally hit her head against the window pane on her trip downward. The whole escapade took less than three seconds, and ended with Dorothy Jean Gale lying in an unconscious heap at the bottom of the window, while the world started to spin out around her.

***

When DJ finally woke up again, she could hear a bird chirping somewhere. She wished it would stop. It was giving her a headache. Following this train of thought, she wondered her uncle's shotgun had been damaged in the storm and, if not, just how in or out of range that damn bird was. Her mind suddenly realized the importance of the last statement and quickly backtracked. The storm! It was over!

She jumped up, which was not the best idea given her current state of dizziness, and promptly fell on the bed, narrowly avoiding landing on Toto, who appeared to be unharmed both by the tornado and her awkward stumbling. When she had recovered a bit longer, DJ made another, more successful, attempt at becoming vertical, cursing gravity all the while for making her black out in the first place.

Her first thoughts went to her aunt and uncle. Yeah, they could be a pain sometime, but they were still family, and she had to make sure they were alright. She tried to peer out the window, but the view was blocked by what appeared to be a very large and unruly shrubbery. DJ thought it looked like one of the bushes that the Collins' had outside of their farm, and assumed it must have blown over to their yard in the storm. She tried to push it out of the way, but it was proving to be quite stubborn, and DJ quickly gave up the attempt. She'd had enough of losing fights with inanimate objects that day. Guessing the old couple would still be in the cellar, DJ set off for the front door to fetch them out from under the barn.

With Toto following close on her heels, DJ reached the door, opened it, glanced out, slammed the door shut, took a deep breath, opened the door again, slammed it again, and finally sat down with her back to the door, breathing heavily.

"Toto," she whispered to her furry companion, "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."


	3. Chapter 3: In which witches are useless

_A/N: Sorry about the wait on this. New chapters will come out in a more timely fashion, I promise. Thanks for the kind feedback!_

Twenty-eight seconds after her shocking revelation at the door, DJ was back in her room, tearing through fallen posters, bits of porcelain dolls, and entire shelf full of fallen and shattered CDs until she at last found her katana. She knew she wasn't very good with it, but considering what she had found outside the door, it was better to be prepared. She would have taken the shotgun over the fireplace as well, but the tornado had torn it off the wall and damaged the stock, so that was out.

She ventured back towards the door again, strapping the blade onto her back as she went. "Did you see it Toto?" she asked the dog, "Bright colors everywhere and those little houses? Ugh. It looks like something straight out of one of those horror movies with the happy clowns in it." DJ gave a shiver, but dared to open the door again.

In truth it was not as bad as she made out. She was just trying to make a joke out of a situation that scared her to pieces. While the colors were quite bright, the overall effect was magnificent. The problem arose from the fact that the scene in no way resembled her Kansas farm. The landscape instead resembled something out of a children's book, complete with miniature houses, rows of flowers, and roads make of brick in every color under the rainbow. It was slightly sickening. DJ looked around, expecting to see candy growing on the trees.

The farmhouse was located on top of a hill overlooking the child-size city, and DJ could now see that the bushes she once thought belong to her neighbors were firmly planted in the ground surrounding the house. In truth, the residence was sitting neatly on half of them, although it was hard to guess as much. They were arranged in such an odd pattern it was hard to tell.

"Toto," said DJ suddenly, as a light bulb went off somewhere above her head, "why is our house sitting on a hedge maze?" The duo moved closer to the maze to examine it. Then DJ saw something that horrified her even more. "And why are there a pair of legs sticking out from underneath it?!"

DJ felt sickened at the prospect of the house crushing a person, but got over it pretty quickly. It wasn't her fault by any means. She didn't even know how the house got there. After about five seconds, she found herself completely over her original alarm, and instead admiring the shoes the corpse was wearing.

DJ had never considered herself a girly-girl by any means. She was a tomboy when it came right down to it, but in every girl, no matter how blasé at the thought of pink frilly things, there was a strong and deep-rooted affection for a good pair of shoes, and DJ found herself falling in love. "Chucks!" she thought to herself. "The lucky stiff has a pair of bright red Chucks!" Although missing the obvious brand logo, the shoes certainly bore a familiarity to the well known product the farm girl coveted so, and DJ started seriously considering grave-robbing for the first time in her life.

Her moral conscious won the short ensuing struggle against her materialism. Turning away with a sigh of regret, she found herself standing face to face with one of the most ridiculous looking creatures she had ever seen. The platinum blond did match the rest of the scenery nicely, to be sure, although maybe a little too tall, and defiantly too old. DJ concluded that the poor thing was insane and began to inch away.

"So what kind of witch are you?" asked the woman. The question only added to DJ's confusion, seeing as how she was still trying to get over the crazy woman's appearance. "Maybe its Halloween here," she thought to herself. If it was, this one would win the costume contest hands down. She was wearing a huge, fluffy pick ball gown, complete with glitter and sequence. On her head perched a gold crown that was well over a foot tall and she carried a matching wand with her. The whole ensemble was topped off by a pair of fairy wings strapped to the woman's back that appeared to be made out of silk, wire, and glitter paint. It would have been quite comical if the woman weren't at least ten years older than DJ, and probably more.

"Come again?" she managed finally, since the costumed woman still stood awaiting a reply.

"I asked what kind of witch you were," said the woman in a kind voice. She smiled happily at DJ, trying to put her at ease. As it was, it only caused the younger girl to become fully convinced that the stranger was crazy, and probably preparing to cut out her heart and eat it.

"A witch? Like with potions and broomsticks and black cats and shit?" DJ shook her head. "Sorry, but you've got the wrong person."

The winged lady frowned a little. "But if you're not a witch, how did you carry your house through the air?" The woman seemed puzzled, but then perked up. "But of course you must be a good witch, or else you wouldn't have crushed the bad one."

That seemed to settle the matter for the pink clad woman, who informed DJ that her name was Glinda and she was very happy to meet another good witch like herself, and that the munchkins would be so glad to know that the new good witch had smashed the old bad one, and that everything would be hunky-dory and peachy-keen now that all that had been settled.

DJ, for her own part, couldn't believe that she had just heard the words "hunky-dory" used in a serious statement, and tried in vain to explain that she didn't know what the hell was going on. Still, Glinda was not to be deterred, and she started calling in a loud, melodic voice for the munchkins to come out and meet the nice lady.

The munchkins turned out to be midgets, who, despite their affinity for freakishly bright colors, appeared to be slightly more down to earth (no pun intended). They stood gawking, demanding explanations, and (seeing as how both DJ and Glinda weren't providing anything other than silence and loud urges for everyone to rejoice) eventually gave up and drew their own conclusions. Glinda continued to prance around, making quite a spectacle of herself.

"Ignore her," said a voice from DJ's elbow. DJ looked down to see one of the munchkin-thingies standing next to her, dressed in a calico dress straight out of Woodstock with long blond hair from the same festival. "She's like this all the time."

"Crazy?" question DJ carefully.

The munchkin laughed. DJ really couldn't tell ages in this society, but the munchkin girl looked to be a few years younger than she was, and fairly good natured. "No, just overly happy. She's a bit much, of course, but she's a sweet person once you get to know her and a good witch to be sure. You just kind of have to get over the abundance of exuberance. I'm Kitty, by the way."

"DJ Gale."

The two girls watched as Glinda performed a pirouette and convinced a munchkin man to tango with her. "So," DJ said after a few seconds. "Not to sound rude or anything, but would you mind telling me where the hell I am?"

Kitty laughed again. "Hey, you killed the witch. I'll tell you anything you want."

DJ frowned. "I really don't think I'm responsible for that."

"Doesn't matter. Dead is dead. Anyways, you are currently in Munchkin City, ideally located in Munchkin Land, which is to be found in the northern half of the Land of Oz"

DJ looked at Toto. "Yep, defiantly not in Kansas anymore."

Kitty gave her a quizzical look. "What's Kansas?"

Over the sound of Glinda's loud and rather annoying singing, DJ explained that Kansas was her and Toto's home, and she had no idea how she got here, considering she had never heard of this place before.

Kitty, for her part, was kind enough to explain to DJ that they didn't know how she got there either. They had saw the house fly in from the sky and crush the witch's maze, which had made them ecstatic, considering that the evil witch used to trap people in the center of it and make them wander around lost inside for days without food or water before letting them out. Still, they were afraid that a new witch might be even meaner than the old one, so they had sent for Glinda (who was currently swinging upside down from a branch of a tree) to talk to her for them.

"The tornado must have carried us here," speculated DJ.

"Do you think this tornado thing would be nice enough to carry Glinda away?" asked Kitty. Still, a minute later, they were both glad of the pink witch's presence, despite her breaking out into yet another chorus of "Oh Ring Those Happy Bells." It was at this time that gigantic fireball appeared in the middle of the square, dying out to reveal a green-skinned woman shrouded in a lot of smoke and looking very pissed off.

The munchkins hid immediately. Kitty pulled DJ into one of the bushes the house had missed on its fall. Glinda stopped singing and went to meet the witch. "Elphaba," she said coldly, being serious for the first time since DJ had met her.

"Glinda," snarled the witch in reply. DJ didn't have to be told to guess that this witch was evil. She fit the stereotype perfectly, complete with broomstick and pointed black hat. "Where is she?" shouted Elphba. "Where is the evil girl who killed my sister? I know she's here. I saw her land."

"Well," said Glinda good-naturedly, "she appears to be gone now. You must have just missed her. In any case, she insists it was an accident. She's a charming girl, Elphba. You'll love her if you get the chance to meet her."

"Oh, I would so love to meet her," said the other witch, with quite the opposite infliction in her voice.

DJ turned to Kitty, only to see her new friend wrestling the red shoes off of the dead witch's feet. "What are you doing?" she hissed in alarm.

Kitty tossed the shoes to DJ. "Put these on, quickly!" she commanded. DJ began to protest, but the young girl silenced her. "I'll explain later, just put them on!"

DJ began pulling on the shoes, kicking off her old beat up white tennis shoes with a little more glee than was absolutely necessary. In the background, the debate between the two still-living witches raged on. "Now stop playing games with me, Glinda. I know that girl is still here, and I'll find her even if I have to sniff her out like a bloodhound!"

"Then you might as well start, Elphba, because you're not going to get anything out of me." With that, Glinda huffed and sat down on a pink cloud that happened to suddenly appear next to her. DJ bent her attention to the laces of the shoes, and had just finished tying a knot in the second one when a green hand burst into the bushes, clamped down on her ear, and dragged her out into the square.

"Ow, ow, ow! Damn it, bitch, let go of my ear!" yelled DJ. The evil witch paid her no mind, releasing her only when they stood in the middle of the square. Glinda stood up, ready to intervene if necessary, but one glance at DJ and she calmly sat back down again, certain that all would be well.

"And now, you brat," shrieked the green hag, "I'll return the favor that you bestowed on my sister!" With a growl, she made a motion that looked incredibly evil, and lightning shot forth from her jade hands, aimed directly at DJ.

Even though it wouldn't do any good, DJ ducked. As it was, even this slight gesture proved unnecessary, since the lightning bolt stopped short, about a half foot from where DJ stood.

The witch, looking even angrier and more perplexed, howled and tried again with the same result. After a third failure, she stared, wordless in her rage, waiting for an answer to present itself.

Glinda was nice enough to provide such an answer. "Ah-hem," she said, gesturing down towards DJ's feet and the new footwear that adorned them.

"Gak!" was the witch's disgruntled reply, to infuriated to say more. Finally she managed to choke out, "You'll pay for this!" before disappearing in another burst of flames.

Glinda came over to DJ and complimented her on her cleverness. Giving her no time to ask questions, she began to call out the munchkins all over again. DJ saw Kitty and Toto emerge from the bush and rushed over to them. "What the hell just happened?"

"It's the shoes," explained Kitty. DJ scooped up Toto. She need some comfort right now. The younger girl continued her explanation. "The witch always used to brag about them. They protect you from direct attack spells. I think they can do other stuff too, but I'm not sure." She frowned, wishing she could be more helpful to the girl who had just ended the Wicked Witch of the East's reign of terror.

"Huh," said DJ, looking down at the shoes with a new respect. "Well, thank you. You kind of just saved my life."

The munchkin girl shrugged. "Don't thank me, I didn't really do anything. I just pulled some shoes off a dead chick. Besides, even if you didn't do it intentionally, you still killed the witch and crushed her hedge maze. I owed you one."

"Well," chirped Glinda, coming over to the two younger girls. "I think that worked out smashingly, don't you?" See didn't bother waiting for their reply. "Now then, I suppose you, my little good witch, will be wanted to get home now."

DJ suddenly had a vivid and terrifying mental picture of Aunt Em and Uncle Henry lying broken on the ground somewhere, victims of the tornado. She had to make sure they were all right. "Yes," she said. "Defiantly yes."

"Good luck to you then! I hope to see you again sometime. Farewell my dears!" With that, the good witch disappeared. In a bubble.

"Does she not realize that I'm not a witch and have no clue how to get home?" asked DJ.

"It does not appear so," replied Kitty.

"So now what?"

"Well, you could go after her and attempt to explain the situation. She'd probably help you then."

DJ grimaced at the thought. "Is there anyone less crazy I can get help from?"

Kitty thought for a moment, and then brightened. "There's the wizard," she exclaimed happily.

"The wizard?"

"Yep. The great and powerful wizard of Oz. He lives in the Emerald City, and he's supposed to know everything."

"And he's not insane?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Perfect. I'll go see him then. I don't suppose you have directions?"

Kitty laughed and promised that her father could point the girl and her dog in the right way. She'd take them to him now, if she could find him in the mess that the town square had quickly become.

DJ paused. "Just one last question, if I might."

"Go for it."

"So, about Glinda… what's up with the wings?"

Kitty shrugged. "No clue. Trust me; we've been trying to figure it out for years."

DJ nodded. "Probably best just to drop it then?"

"Probably."


	4. Chapter 4: In which scythe gets hugged

DJ, still holding Toto, followed Kitty through the throng of munchkins in the square in search of the munchkin girl's father. Although DJ was taller, and would have found it easier to move through the plaza with her longer legs, she was constantly being pressed in by small people trying their hardest to thank her for something she didn't do. Kitty quickly got ahead of her, and only the fact that DJ was well over a head taller than the rest of the crowd allowed her to keep the other in view.

After a few minutes of hand-shaking, thanks accepting, and smiling at complete strangers, the crowd began to simmer down a little, and Kitty made her way back to DJ, dragging an old man with her. DJ assumed, correctly this time, that the man was Kitty's father. Like his daughter, as well of the rest of the crowd, he looked like a rainbow had thrown up on him. However, his countenance was quite opposite then the rest of the crowd. He looked downright gruff, frowning at everything, and mumbling something about the upcoming apocalypse through his long, thick, white beard. Kitty hushed him and made the introductions.

"I suppose it's nice to meet you, young lady, although now I assume that you'll be off doing something dangerous, and probably get yourself killed or something, and now that I know you I'll be forced to come to the funeral and say something nice and it will be awkward because I'm horrid at public speaking and will probably ruin the entire event. Might I apologize in advance?"

DJ didn't know whether to laugh or be mortified. Kitty intervened. "Dad's just a touch morbid. You'll have to excuse him." To her father, she whispered something along the lines of "be nice" to which he replied in a much louder voice that this was as nice as he could be without his medication. DJ was barely able to conceal a smile. This was her kind of guy.

"Anyways," said Kitty loudly, trying to get past the embarrassment her father's last statement had caused her, "DJ wants to go the Emerald City, to see the Wizard of Oz so she can get back home. I figured you could tell her what route to take, considering that you helped build most of these roads."

"Course I can. Not that you can trust me anymore; not know that I'm all frail and old. Wouldn't surprise me one bit if I developed sudden amnesia and sent you the wrong way entirely. Probably end up being burned at the stake by a tribe of cannibals."

The morbid part of DJ's brain was slightly intrigued. "You have cannibals here?"

"Not to my knowledge," replied the old man. "But like I said, I'm not to be trusted. No reliable information in my head…" he continued to ramble on for a few moments, during which Kitty assured DJ in a hushed whisper that there hadn't been a cannibal sighting in Oz for the past thirty years, and anyone who said they had been captured by a tribe of them was either lying, crazy, or probably both.

"So," DJ quickly intervened when Kitty's father stopped to take a breath. "Assuming you don't suffer from partial amnesia or anything else, how do I get to this green city place?"

"The Emerald City? It's just down the yellow brick road. Look down."

DJ followed the pessimist's instructions. She was standing at right about the middle of the plaza, where a rainbow of brick swirled out and each went off in their different directions. One of them was, indeed, a yellow color that reminded DJ of banana slugs.

"You follow that," continued the munchkin man, "you should end up in the Emerald City just fine, provided you don't get eaten by a giant swarm of fire ants on your way…"

The girls ignored him after this. "Well," said Kitty, "I guess this is goodbye."

"I guess," replied DJ. "Look, thanks for everything. I would have died or gone mad if it weren't for you."

"Thank you," said Kitty back. "That Wicked Witch of the East would still be alive if you hadn't appeared. Trust me; this day is going to become a holiday for all munchkins and our decedents. ("If any!" interjected her father.) Hey, if you ever make it back here from Kansas again, look me up."

"I will," smiled DJ. "Hopefully I'll see you later then."

"Hopefully."

DJ smiled one last time, and set Toto down next to her. She certainly wasn't going to carry him all the way to the Emerald City. She double checked that her katana was still firmly attached to her back and then checked the ground again. The yellow path began its spiral almost exactly from where she was standing. She noted it's path, then cut across every other road straight to where the yellow one took off out of town, not bothering to circle the square the seven times that staying on it exactly would have demanded. With Toto next to her, she turned at the edge of town to wave once more to Kitty and her father, and then set off without another backward glance.

"What a charming girl," commented Kitty's father. "I do hope she dies quickly when her time comes." Kitty was shocked. It was the nicest thing she believed she'd ever heard her father say about anyone.

***

DJ was only ten minutes into her journey when she began wishing she had brought her MP3 with her. To alleviate the boredom, she began talking to Toto instead. The one-sided conversation covered, amongst other things: pottery, arson, French toast, insults, chick flicks, transvestites, pie, and of course, the inevitable take-over of the world by highly intelligent machines. Neither companion felt it appropriate to breach the topic of the journey itself, the mysterious Wizard of Oz and just how they were supposed to get back home again.

Three hours later, as DJ was in the middle of expressing her thoughts on Tex-mex tacos (with the help of some very colorful language), the two came upon a fork in the road. This was not the first fork they had passed, but this was the only one so far where both roads continued on in the yellow brick they had been instructed to follow.

"Crap," said DJ. "What the hell are we supposed to do now, Toto?"

"You know," replied a voice that was defiantly too deep to be hers, and most defiantly too speaking-English-and-not-barking to be Toto's, "if you keep talking to your dog people are going to think you're crazy."

DJ whirled around in a panic. Toto, thinking they were playing a game, began to run around her, playfully nipping at her newly acquired ruby shoes. "Toto, stop that," she managed to say, once she had verified that there was no one anywhere near them. She figured the voice must be a figment of her imagination, probably brought on by having a conversation with a dog, albeit a very cute and loveable one.

"Oh sure," came the voice again, this time dripping with sarcasm. "Continue talking to the dog. Pay no mind to me. It's not like I matter at all."

DJ whirled around again, provoking another fit from Toto which she ignored this time. She was positive that voice hadn't been a figure of her imagination. Still, all that she could see were fields. She almost felt back at home, although the technology was a bit out of date. She could see a scythe lying in a half-harvested field, right next to a very annoyed looking scarecrow stuck up on a pole…

DJ moved in for a closer examination of the straw man, filling with dread. It seemed inanimate enough… "Hello?" she ventured finally.

Suddenly the scarecrow's face twisted, raising its eyebrows in mock pleasantry. "Hi!" it said.

"Gak!" replied DJ, stumbling back and tripping over Toto. She fell to the ground for the second time that day, thankfully staying conscious this time.

"Oh, hey, careful now," said the scarecrow, a look of genuine concern spreading over his face. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," said DJ, fumbling up. She realized she was still staring at the figure. "Sorry, it's just I've never… I mean, I've never seen a talking scarecrow before."

The scarecrow shrugged as best he could with his arms tied to the cross beam of the pole. "Not many people have."

DJ was amazed. This guy had just usurped the title of oddest creature from Glinda. He was freakishly tall, for starters, and the added height of the pole only added to the difference. DJ felt short for the first time in her life. Upon a closer examination, the scarecrows features were fascinating. His face, despite being made out of cloth, looked remarkably human, as if he were just wearing a thin ski-mask over his real features. And his eyes were a piercing shade of green that made DJ look away with embarrassment. He was dressed in a cream-colored, long sleeved shirt and matching pants, which was just a few shades darker then his deathly white skin/cloth tone (his hair also matched this dead white hue). Over the shirt, he wore a black tunic, belted at the waist, and on his head was a hat that looked remarkably similar to the one DJ had seen the wicked witch wearing earlier that day, although this one was bent, and much more worse for wear. He also wore the longest scarf DJ had ever seen around his neck, the shade of which matched his eyes almost perfectly.

DJ realized that the man must be waiting for her to talk again. "So, umm, what… I mean, how… umm." She knew she looked like an idiot, but she had no idea what someone was supposed to say in the event they happened upon a talking scarecrow while lost at a fork in the road. Luckily, her awkward attempt at speech was interrupted by a crow sweeping out of the sky, heading right for them.

DJ ducked, and the bird soared over her head and directly at the scarecrow. Tied up to the pole as he was, the scarecrow could do little over then struggle and spout out a sting of highly colorful insults at the bird as it came to rest on his outstretched arm and began to peck at his head. DJ's particular favorite was "you motherfucking death herald of unholy repulsiveness."

"Hey!" she said, intervening. "Shoo, shoo." She waved her arms at the bird. It remained still. Toto attempted a burst of mad barking, but this also was ignored. DJ decided to go for a slightly more dramatic approach and drew her katana. "I said move it, you feathery piece of shit!"

This apparently got the bird's attention, and it flew away, squawking angrily. "Oh, he is not happy about that," said the scarecrow with a smile, watching the crow fly away. "Hey, not to sound ungrateful or anything, considering you just helped me out kind of a lot, but would you mind maybe cutting me the hell down from up here?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," said DJ. Taking advantage of the already unsheathed katana, she moved closer to the straw man. She made quick work of the ropes, and managed (narrowly) to avoid chopping off any of the scarecrow's limbs. When she was done, he slipped down with a sigh.

"Thanks," he said, stretching. He sounded happier then DJ had ever heard anyone before. "You have no clue how nice it is to finally be down."

His stiffness apparently dealt with, the scarecrow tucked a few loose pieces of straw away, before being distracted by the scythe on the ground and snatching it up. "Hello, old friend," he said, blissfully hugging the blade to his chest. "Oh how I missed you."

With that, he turned back to DJ, his smile falling, and swung the scythe out, straight towards her head.


	5. Chapter 5: In which DJ feels guilty

The blade of the scythe flew through the air above DJ's head, and she heard it slice through something that sounded sickeningly solid. She wanted to check the validity of this, but was currently too afraid to open her eyes. Summoning up her courage, she forced one of her eyelids open, and peered at the scene.

The crow that had been pecking at the scarecrow earlier was back, with some friends. One of these was currently lying on the ground severed into two equal pieces. The two remaining crows were circling just out of the range of the scythe, which the scarecrow held at the ready, prepared to strike just as soon as one of them ventured too close. The smaller of the two got unlucky, slipping into a lower wind current. The scarecrow crouched low, and then sprang into the air with surprising dexterity, lacerating the crow's head off as he went. DJ, a lifelong Tim Burton fan, found herself reminded of Jack Skellington. The last crow, giving up entirely, squawked angrily and flapped away.

The scarecrow, straighten up, smiled maliciously at the retreating bird. He then turned to DJ, who was still cowering where she stood.

For the second time since she had met him, a look of concern came to the cloth face. "Are you alright?" he asked, moving closer, obviously trying to comfort her and having no idea how to. "You're not going to throw up, are you?"

DJ shook her head and slowly relaxed. "It's going to take a lot more than some dismembered crows to get me to puke. I grew up on a farm. Dead animals are basically an everyday occurrence."

"Right," said the scarecrow, relaxing now that it was obvious to him the girl wasn't about to bust out into a fit of tears. He shot out a cloth hand towards her. "I'm Scarecrow, by the way."

She accepted his handshake, although a little speculative of his name. "DJ Gale. And this is Toto" She gestured to her gray wolf dog, who was happily playing with a foxtail that was growing next to the road, seemingly unaffected by the fight scene.

"Nice to meet you both." Scarecrow sat down next to the dog, fiddling with scythe until it neatly folded, at which point he strapped it over his shoulder. "So what are you two doing out here?"

"We're going to the Emerald city to find a wizard so we can get back to Kansas."

"Kansas? Never heard of the place before. I've been hearing some good things about this wizard though; travelers on this road love to gossip."

"Wait," questioned DJ, joining him on the curb, "just how long have you been up there?"

Scarecrow shrugged. "About a year, give or take a few weeks."

"And no one ever let you down?"

Scarecrow frowned. "Well, they were all kind of scared to. Truth be told, I'm kind of a criminal. Probably should have mentioned that." He gave DJ a wry smile. "Sorry, but you are now guilty in aiding and abetting an enemy of the Wicked Witch of the West."

"Wicked Witch of the West? Tall, green-skinned chick with a broomstick and a pointed hat? Goes by Elphaba?" fired off DJ.

The stuffed man looked surprised. "You've met?"

"Met, was almost killed by, same thing."

Scarecrow laughed. "Pretty close, in that one's case. So you're a fellow lowlife? Awesome! Why does she hate you? Did you look at her directly?"

"I accidentally killed her sister."

"Nice!"

"What about you?" asked DJ, curious now. "What'd you do that got you stuck up on a pole for a year?"

"Me?" laughed Scarecrow, gesturing to his head. "I stole her hat."

DJ was confused again. "Why?"

"It's a long story," said Scarecrow. "I'll tell you later, if you let me come with you."

"You want to come with me? Well, sure. It'd be great to talk to someone who can actually talk back. But why do you want to see the wizard?"

Scarecrow sighed. "Because I have lost my brain and I think he can help me find it."

DJ started laughing, until a look from her new companion told her he was being serious. "You… don't have a brain?"

"I told you it was a long story." He stood up, offering her his hand. "Shall we then?"

"We shall," DJ took his hand, and he hauled her up, showing surprising strength for someone made entirely out of sticks and straw. "So, which way?"

"Either," said Scarecrow. "They both lead to the Emerald City. The left one goes straight through the woods, so it's faster, and the right curves around it."

"Let's take the faster way then," said DJ, another vision of her lifeless aunt and uncle flashing through her head. With Toto next to them, they started forward. "Why do they have two roads anyways?"

"Some people are scared of the woods. Lots of old wives tales about dangerous beasts and stuff like that."

"Any truth to them?"

"Of course. But what's life without a little danger?"

The two continued to chatter as they walked down the road. DJ found herself telling the tall figure all about her life in Kansas, as well as the events that had brought her here. The scarecrow, for his part, revealed himself to be funny and highly sarcastic, although very kind under his tattered exterior. He remained silent on the subject of his own past, continually putting it off with more questions directed towards her own boring Kansas farm life.

It was only once they were well into the woods the DJ's stomach started rumbling like a redneck crowd at a monster truck showdown. Scarecrow looked around, slightly started. "Just out of curiosity, and because I don't want to have to haul you around on my back if you faint, when was the last time you ate?"

DJ thought about this for a minute. She had got up late that morning, and hadn't had time to eat before rushing to her baby-sitting job. True, Aunt Em had made tuna noodle casserole for supper last night, so that made the last time she ate… "Lunch yesterday."

"Umm, yeah, you need food."

DJ reluctantly agreed with a shrug, than stopped short as the scarecrow's words triggered a question in her head. "Wait, you _don't _need to eat?"

"Be kind of hard to survive for a year stuck up on a pole without nutrition if I actually needed any," replied Scarecrow. "I mean, I still can eat, I just don't need to. I defiantly would not turn down a nice, juicy steak right now if you happen to have a spare one on you."

"Steak: no," said DJ, growing excited, "but how about a nice, juicy apple?"

Scarecrow followed her finger as she pointed down the road to a patch of apple trees growing in the middle of the rest of the forest. A sly smile spread over his face. "That'd work too." He turned back to DJ. "Good thing you're the type of girl who doesn't mind getting her hands dirty."

DJ was not, in fact, the type of girl who minded getting her hands dirty. What she failed to comprehend, however, was what getting her hands dirty had to do in any way with picking a couple of low hanging apples that were less than two steps out of their way. Then Scarecrow drew his scythe. "Prepare for the fight scene," he announced in a way that managed to be both ominous and giddy at the same time.

"Awesome movie," remarked DJ, still thoroughly confused but nevertheless drawing her katana to be on guard.

"What?"

"Umm, well there's this guy called Mel Brooks…"

DJ was saved the humiliation that would have arisen from her trying to explain Robin Hood: Men in Tights to guy who didn't know what a movie was by one of the apple trees suddenly bending down, scooping up a rock, and throwing it directly at Scarecrow's head.

The young cloth man gracefully ducked out of the way just in time. He called out to the tree, "Well, that's that, my friends. You threw first. I can't be held responsible for any of my extremely violent actions against you now."

"You're in the wrong forest, punk," replied one of the trees, a face appearing from the folds in the bark. "So unless you want to be my new bitch, you better just turn your ass around and exit quietly."

"Hey, this can still end well for you. All we want it a couple of apples, and to pass on by nice and quietly."

"Then you're barking up the wrong tree, pretty boy. You're in my neck of the woods now, and that's not the way we run this shit."

DJ looked down at Toto. "Okay boy, I've obviously gone mad, so I'll leave it up to you. "Which is worse: that there is a talking tree, or that the talking tree appears to be a gang member?" Toto barked happily. DJ nodded. "I agree."

"Me too," commented Scarecrow.

"Hey!" called out another tree. "You got something to say to us, sweet cheeks, than you say it to our face."

"Hey baby," called out a third, "why don't you dump stick boy over there and I'll show you what some real wood looks like?"

DJ was both mortified and insulted. Mostly though, she was pissed off. So, was her companion apparently, since he choose this moment to attack the offending tree, splitting the face in the bark in two with a single swing. "Who are you calling 'stick boy'?" he muttered.

The rest happened in a confusing blur, reminding DJ too much of her calculus class back home. The trees began throwing rocks, clods of dirt, something that looked suspiciously like animal droppings, rotten apples, basically anything they could get their hands on. Scarecrow, for his part, weaved around these projectiles with apparent ease, hacking bark with his scythe as he went. After getting hit with a few glancing blows, DJ decided to do exactly what she did in calculus, closed her eyes, and began swinging her katana at random in hope of hitting something right. After a few moments of this, she felt the blade slice through something substantial, and noted a distinct lack of jeers and airborne debris, and so felt secure in opening her eye a crack.

"Umm, ow," said Scarecrow.

DJ realized with horror that the one thing she had severed had been Scarecrows arm from the rest of his body. "Oh my God! I am so sorry. Are you okay? I mean, is there anything I can do? I mean…"

DJ trailed off. Words just didn't seem to be doing any justice. At least the apple trees had all been taken care of. DJ couldn't see a single one still intact, and most of their limbs seemed to be hanging at an angle that could only be described as precarious, at best. Scarecrow, for his part, didn't seem to be too perturbed by his injury. He barely seemed annoyed, let alone angry, and was clearly not in pain. He plopped down to the ground and pulled a needle and thread from somewhere inside his tunic. "Relax, I'm fine. It'll just take me a minute to fix this. How about you collect some apples in the meantime?"

"Umm, okay." DJ headed over to the nearest ruined tree and bent to pick up some fruit, deciding it would be better not to question the guy whose arm she had just accidently hacked off.

"Not those ones," called Scarecrow. "They'll be all rotten and sour. There should be some nicer trees behind them. The good ones always grow up behind the bad."

"Right," DJ said, still shaken. "First a fall into a magical land, then I almost get killed by a witch, then I make friends with a talking scarecrow, then I get prostituted by an apple tree, then I cut my friend's arm off," she thought to herself. "No problem, just an ordinary day. I am not going crazy. Madness is not an issue. Madness has gone out to lunch and cannot be reached at the moment, but if you'd like to leave your name and number, it will get back to you as soon as possible. Not crazy at all."

With Toto tailing her, she headed past the grove of criminal apple trees. Scarecrow was right; there was indeed another grove of trees sitting just behind them. A face appeared in one of them and smiled nicely.

"Hello, dear!" called the tree, in a grandmotherly voice that made DJ think of plates of warm cookies and polka music in the background. "My, you look half starved. So thin! How would you like some nice juicy apples?"

DJ meekly consented, and the trees in the grove loaded her up with a large variety of juicy looking apples, all the while commenting on how bony she looked and hoping that their apples would "fix her right up again." The girl from Kansas was certain that they would have been pinching their cheeks if they had the fingers for it, and for that matter was very glad all they could do was brush at her with their leaves. Her wolf-dog companion didn't seem to be bothered by talking trees, and instead started eagerly gnawing on the first apple one of the trees rolled towards him. DJ gathered up as many as she could in her arms, called upon her rarely used manners to politely thank the trees, and then headed back to Scarecrow amidst a shower of well wishes.

When she arrived, Scarecrow was just finishing up sewing his arm back on. DJ dropped the apples and helped him tie off the last bit of thread. "Thanks," he said, picking up two apples and tossing one to DJ.

DJ caught the fruit and took a large bite out of it. "Well, I kind of owed you. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine. One of the nice things about being stuck in a stick and straw body is the amazing lack of pain, so don't let it worry you."

"Right," said DJ. The two ate in silence for a moment, the girl to embarrassed to strike up a conversation and the boy being to mortified that he had just given to much about his past away and that awkward questions were about to ensue. After enough time passed that he felt sure that his faux pas had gone unnoticed, Scarecrow felt safe enough to start up a conversation.

"You're not really the fighting type, are you?"

Although she thought this a touch rude, DJ was just relived that the straw boy had forgiven her, and eagerly took up the topic. "Let's just say the katana wouldn't be my weapon of choice if I were back home. It's not really a widely used weapon."

"Let me guess, mostly fist fighting?"

"Bingo."

Scarecrow sighed a little. "That's how it used to be here, before the wicked witches ruined everything."

"How so?" asked DJ, wondering if she was finally going to be filled in on her friends mysterious past. She wasn't.

"Its part of that long story I mentioned," Scarecrow said, putting it off for what had to be the forty-sixth time that day. "I'll tell you later."

DJ was going to press the subject, but she was still embarrassed about the damage she inflicted earlier, no matter how little pain it seemed to have caused. Scarecrow took advantage of her pause to ask who Mel Brooks was, which thoroughly took the girl's mind off the matter for the time being.

After filling themselves up, the two bipeds and their quadruped escort stood up. "Hey," asked Scarecrow suddenly. "Can I see your katana?"

"Sure," replied DJ, handing it over. The scarecrow admired the blade and the sheath it came in for a minute, than strapped it across his back opposite his scythe. "Hey…" started DJ.

Scarecrow gave her a look that was a cross between skepticism and a wicked grin. "No offense, but you'll get this back when you learn how to use it without hitting friendly targets."

DJ pouted, knowing she deserved this but still irate about her new friend taking away her favorite toy. The three set off again, Toto running ahead of the other two. He disappeared around a bend, then came scuttling back as fast as his legs would allow, barking his head off and growling over his shoulder.

"What's up with your dog?" asked Scarecrow.

"I don't know," replied DJ, concerned.

"Not sure, but it might be dangerous." Scarecrow drew out his scythe for what he considered to be far too soon after the last incident. He looked down to DJ, who had her eyes on her katana. He reached back to hand it to her, thought better of it, and left it there. "Get behind me."

Tensely, the two started forward, inching towards the bend at a rate that would have normally caused DJ to irritably brush past her companion while making a rude comparison to snails. As it was, Toto's insistent barks had stuck her heart in her throat. She used the extra time to remind herself that she was a brave girl and could handle this. "If all else fails," she thought to herself, "I promise I won't scream. I refuse to." With this thought in mind, she prodded Scarecrow ahead, slightly faster at least. Toto followed his mistress, growling the whole way.

After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the bend. DJ closed her eyes as they turned, naively wishing that there would be nothing there and that it was just the air in Oz making her beloved dog go a little crazy. She opened her eyes.

As she saw what waited there, all promises jumped out the window. DJ started screaming her lungs out.


	6. Chapter 6: In which Toto plays fetch

Scarecrow was having a considerable amount of trouble convincing DJ to come down from the tree she had scrambled up three minutes ago, after quickly scrutinizing it to make sure this one wasn't going to talk to her. Toto, after sniffing around a bit more, was waiting under the tree with him.

"Seriously, it's not going to hurt you," Scarecrow called up.

"Prove it," DJ shouted back, clutching the branch she was perched on.

"Well," Scarecrow glanced back over his shoulder. "It appears to be kind of… dead."

"That's just what it wants you to think." DJ called back. She took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay, I know I'm being a little overdramatic…"

"Oh, just a bit."

"…but considering everything that's happened to me today, do you think you might give me just one minute to freak out here? I mean, come on. There's kind of a giant killer robot staring at me!"

"It's not a giant killer robot. It's…" Scarecrow was interrupted when DJ began screaming again. "Right, one minute to freak out, please continue."

Scarecrow sat down on the side of the yellow brick road next to Toto, pulled out a stick from his left arm, and started up a game of fetch with the scraggly pup. A few minutes of hyperventilating later, DJ slid down the trunk to join them, scooping up her dog like a talisman against this strange and unknown technology.

"So… not a giant killer robot?" she began.

"Nope," said Scarecrow with a sigh, returning the stick from whence it came. "It's a prosthetic man."

"Which is not the same as a giant killer robot?"

"No."

"So what is it?"

Scarecrow grimaced slightly. "It's kind of hard to explain. Do you have people in Kansas with any fake limbs?"

DJ nodded. "Sure. One of my uncle's best friends has a prosthetic leg."

Scarecrow nodded. "Well that makes it easier. A prosthetic man is just a normal guy who's had all their limbs replaced with prosthetic ones."

"All new?"

"Yep."

"So, new arms? New legs?"

"Yep."

"New head?"

"Yep."

"New torso?"

"Yep."

"All new organs?"

"Yep."

"Right. So how exactly is that different then a robot?"

"Well, they still have a human brain," said Scarecrow, frowning. "Lucky sods."

DJ looked over. "Yeah, about that… how do you know all of this stuff if you don't have a brain?"

"Well, how do I know how I know things if I don't have a brain to know how I know that I know them?"

DJ took a minute to think about this statement. "That actually makes sense."

"It does?" said Scarecrow, slightly surprised. "Cool. I was just trying to make up something that sounded good."

"Well done," remarked DJ.

"So is it my turn to ask the question now?" said Scarecrow.

"Sure."

"How is it that you're fine with, oh I don't know, say a talking scarecrow, but you absolutely flip at the first glance of a metal man?"

DJ sighed. "Blame Uncle Henry. He made me watch this movie called Terminator with him when I was little, and I've had a deep rooted paranoia about the robot revolution and the enslavement of humanity ever since."

"Hmm," replied Scarecrow. Then he lapsed in silence, pondering the concept of movies, which DJ had been explaining to him before Toto started yelping. DJ went back to staring at the metal man. "Once you get over the original shock," she thought, "it's really kind of cool looking." The immobile tin man was as tall as Scarecrow and maybe an inch or so taller. His limbs were thin and gray, but they were mostly covered up by what appeared to be Goliath sized pairs of boots and gloves in a dull, metallic blue shade. His torso and head were less oversized, but the same material. Upon questioning, Scarecrow informed DJ that the substance was tin, but she was quick enough to figure out tin in Kansas and tin in Oz were two entirely separate things. The shape of the blue metal kind of reminded her of the armor medieval knights wore in the fairy tales her father used to read to her before her parents had gone off on their worldly adventures without her. DJ forced herself to think of the prosthetic man again. She didn't want to go down that road. Besides, this knight carried a gigantic ax in one hand instead of a sword, and probably wouldn't even need a shield.

Between the slit in the visor, DJ could see two specks of metal that she supposed must serve for eyes. "It's weird," she remarked to the Scarecrow, as she swayed from side to side. "The eyes look like they follow you where ever you go."

"Hmm?" said Scarecrow, startled out of his musings. "Oh, yeah. They do that." He blinked, becoming fully awake again. "Wait, no they don't." He jumped up to his feet. "What the hell?"

DJ joined him. "What's up?"

"Holy shit," said Scarecrow. "This dude's still alive!"

***

Somewhere to the west, and a tad bit south, of where DJ and Scarecrow were freaking out over the discovery of the still living prosthetic man, an angry green woman who was normally referred to as the Wicked Witch of the West (and to a lesser extent, Elphaba) was pacing wildly up and down her chambers. A winged monkey sat to one side, following her progress much like one would a tennis ball in the middle of a good match. Perched on top of the monkey's head was a crow, which was saved the trouble of turning its head by the movement of the one he rested on. This suited the crow perfectly, as it was essentially very lazy and would like nothing more than a nice nap right about now, preferably followed directly by a nosh on some good bread crumbs. It was not going to get this chance any time soon.

"Galedahusaphrahednit!" shouted Elphaba. Incoherent cries such as these were all she had managed to say after arriving back a few hours previously. Regrettably, her anger had not diminished her ability to shot lightning bolts at anything that got in her way, and the entire room was such a mess that even the mother of five slovenly teenage boys would faint at the sight.

"Balask!" Elphaba continued. "Shanaterhorn! Avernacation! Damn it all!" The winged monkey was so startled at hearing actual words come out of his mistress's mouth that he jumped slightly, knocking the crow off his head. Unfortunately for the crow, he was knocked straight into the path of Hurricane Elphaba, and was turned into a rather ugly pile of ashes.

"Crap," Elphaba groaned to her other pet, "he had a message for me, didn't he?" Without waiting for the monkey to answer, she transformed the ashes back to their original form.

The crow ruffled the last bit of soot out of his feathers, then cawed out his message in crow tongue, a language that can only be described as a cross between a nails on a chalkboard and a cat in heat. The phrase "don't shot the messenger" was lost on the witch, and once she heard that the scarecrow had been freed from his perch by the same girl who had already foiled the witch once that day, she re-incinerated the crow. "As a stress reliever only, of course," she told herself later, "it's not like I'm sadistic or anything."

At the time being, she threw herself over the nearest non-burned chaise lounge and wallowed in self pity. The monkey hopped down from his perch and fetched her something bubbling to drink. The witch jerked her head in recognition, downed the drink with one gulp, then tossed the cup into the air and brought it down with another round of lightning, clay pigeon style. Then, with a sigh, she slumped down even further on the cushions. After going about thirteen minutes without blinking or moving, and just as her winged monkey was about to go and make sure she was still alive, Elphaba jumped up with a start.

"I am not," she exclaimed to no one in particular, "the kind to sit around and sulk!" She snatched up her broomstick. "Furthermore, I am not about to let some silly girl or a stick boy get the best of me."

Elphaba's face broke into an evil grin. "I do believe it's time for some scare tactics."


	7. Chapter 7: In which 80's music comes up

"Do you even know what you're doing?" DJ asked critically. Scarecrow was hovering around the back of the prosthetic man, and had cracked open what DJ could only hope was an access panel.

"Not really," he replied, preoccupied and a bit annoyed. "No brain, remember? I don't know anything. It's all very distracting. All I get to go on are very strong urges that the things that I'm doing or saying are right, and right now I'm getting a very strong urge that says, 'check the wiring'." He snapped the panel shut with a sharp click. "However, that does not appear to be the problem. So, if you have any other suggestions, please voice them. If not, shut up."

DJ smacked him upside the head. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Nobody was allowed to talk to her that way. At least, not when she didn't deserve it.

"What do you mean?" growled Scarecrow, just as defensively. Being made of straw, the blow hadn't hurt him, but it still rankled that DJ would hit him in the first place.

"I mean why did you suddenly turn into bitch-zilla?"

"Because I'm upset, that's why!"

"And why are you upset?!"

"Because I'm going to have to do something extremely stupid right now!" Scarecrow yelled louder then DJ would have thought straw vocal cords could handle, effectively ending the screaming match that the two had previously been locked in.

She restarted the conversation in a much quieter voice. "How stupid?"

Scarecrow sighed, contrite now as well, although still upset. "Very." He took a deep breath, like he was about to launch into some sort of heart wrenching speech, which was exactly what he almost proceeded to do. "Look DJ, there's a lot of stuff that I haven't really told you about me, mostly because it's sort of embarrassing, but my comfort doesn't matter anymore. Right now, there's a guy paralyzed inside his own body, and I can't just walk away from that, and, considering you let me down from that pole earlier, I don't really think you can either. So, since it's the only way you're going to understand the reasoning behind what I'm going to ask you to do, I've got no choice but to come out and say it."

DJ held up her hand, stopping him. "Save the spiel, I can't take a tear-jerker right now. Just tell me what I have to do and we'll hash out the nitty-gritty details later, okay?"

Scarecrow looked taken aback. "Really?"

"Really. I'm very good with just following directions. If high school taught me one thing, it's that asking questions will only lead to more confusion."

Scarecrow nodded approvingly. "Alright then. Here's the plan, I'm going to stick my hat on this guy. That'll unfreeze him."

"How?" interrupted DJ.

"I thought we were doing the nitty-gritty later."

"Ah. Good point. Continue."

"So, wait exactly three minutes, or until he starts moving, and stick it back on my head. Absolutely no more than three minutes."

"Why can't you just take it back?"

Scarecrow grimaced. "Again with the questions? Don't worry about it, you'll figure it out pretty quickly."

"Right. I'll set my watch then."

As DJ fumbled with the rarely used stopwatch function on her wristwatch, Scarecrow turned back to the robot. "Sorry dude, but after three minutes, we can't help you." He turned away, and then back again. "Also, if you try to run off with my hat, she'll cut you." He jerked a thumb at DJ.

DJ turned a bit pale, jerked Scarecrow away from the frozen man, and started whispering frantically in his ear. "You mean there's a possibility that I'm going to have to fight a giant ax-wielding robot?"

"A small chance." Scarecrow pulled her katana from his back and handed it to her. "If it comes to it, just aim for the neck and try not to lop your own head off."

"Thanks," mumbled DJ sarcastically.

"Got that watch ready?" he asked. DJ nodded. "On my mark then. One… two… three!"

DJ hit a button and looked up just inside to see Scarecrow dropping his pointed hat on the prosthetic man's head and then crumpling into an untidy and unanimated heap on the ground.

"Scarecrow!" she yelled in alarm, rushing over to him. Toto was barking like crazy at the pile of straw as well, trying to get his new friend back up. DJ brushed Scarecrows white silk hair from his face, but his eyes looked so lifeless. Just green glass, with no life behind them. "Oh shit…" she muttered, panicking. "Shut up, Toto. I need to think."

The dog did not shut up, but DJ still managed to pull some coherent thoughts together. After all, Scarecrow said that he wouldn't be able to get his hat back himself. This must be what he meant. And, if he knew (or rather strongly felt) that this was going to happen, he must also know (or strongly feel) that putting the hat back in under three minutes was going to fix it. DJ checked her watch impatiently. Two minutes to go.

DJ stood up, and started a sort of worried pacing in place that made her look like she was in desperate need of a bathroom. One of her eyes was glued on the metal man, ready to snatch the hat at the slightest sign of movement. The other was fixated on her watch, counting down the seconds.

With thirty seconds to go, the tin man bent his arm. "Yoink!" shouted DJ, grabbing the hat and ramming it back on Scarecrow's head with more force then was absolutely necessary. She held her breathe, praying her friend hadn't made a mistake.

"I'm… free…" came a voice behind her. Without breaking her concentration on the straw boy, an ideal thought in back of DJ's head said that the voice was much higher pitched then she had been expecting. "Free! Free!"

Without warning, two giant, blue metal arms snatched DJ up and whirled her around in circles. "You freed me! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!"

"Put. Me. Down." DJ commanded, both scared and out of breath from the big man's grasp.

He set her down at once. "Sorry. But you don't know how good it feels to be able to move again. I'm free!"

"What's going on now?" said Scarecrow's slurred voice from behind them. Apparently his plan had worked, and he had risen dizzily to his feet.

"You saved me!" exclaimed the robot. Although his features were forever frozen in metal, his eyes lit up like nitroglycerin being hit with a flare gun. He snatched the still woozy scarecrow off his feet and gave him the same whirling hug he had given DJ moments earlier.

"Gak!" squawked Scarecrow, coming fully awake now. "DJ, he's hugging me."

"I noticed."

"What do I do?"

"No clue." DJ reached down and spread some of the hugging love to Toto, who had no clue what was going on, but was very enthusiastic about whatever it was.

The prosthetic man set his query upright again. "Thank you!" he exclaimed once again.

"You're welcome," said Scarecrow, bemused.

DJ stepped over to him as the tin man started twirling and laughing to himself in a way that reminded her to much of Glinda to be comfortable with. "Are you alright?" she whispered.

Scarecrow nodded, "Just a bit nauseous. The spinning did not help. I'll be fine in a few minutes."

"You will be explaining your whole Frosty the Snowman act later. Just thought I'd give you a heads up now." All she got in response was a dejected nod and a quizzical look saying that yet another one of her pop culture references meant nothing to anyone in Oz.

The freed man came back over to them. "I owe you so much. How can I ever thank you enough? I'll do anything."

"Absolutely not necessary," said Scarecrow. "Consider it our good deed for the day."

"Well, at least tell me your names then," he persisted. "I want to know who to dedicate it to when I carve you a monument."

"Creepy," stated DJ. Still, she couldn't help but smile. Something about the man's enthusiasm was contagious. "I'm DJ, and this is Scarecrow. And that's my dog, Toto."

"I'm honored to meet you," he said, shaking each of their hands vigorously in turn, including Toto's.

"So what's your name?" questioned Scarecrow.

"Oh, umm… I don't exactly remember it. You can call me Tin Man though" He waited for their reaction, but all he got were gapping jaws. "What? Ten years is a long time to sit frozen in the middle of a path. You forget some stuff."

"Ten years?" exclaimed DJ, finding her voice again. She elbowed Scarecrow. "And you thought you had it bad."

"What happened to you?" asked Scarecrow, ignoring her.

"Well, it's a long story…"

"Then forget I asked. No offense," he turned to DJ. "But we have got to get going if we want to find a safe place to stop for the night before it gets to dark."

"Right," said Tin Man. "Well then, adieu my friends. You have my eternal thanks for what you have done for me."

"It was our pleasure," responded DJ, shaking his giant hand once again.

"Catch you around," said Scarecrow. Toto barked. The giant waved one last time, and then they all turned away and started off in the exact same direction. "Oh."

"You're going that way?" asked Tin Man.

"Yeah," said DJ. "We're going to Oz to see the wizard."

"So am I," replied Tin Man. "I know he's new, but he just has such a good reputation already."

"Yeah, it's been ten years. He's huge now," said Scarecrow. "Why are you going to see him?"

"I've kind of got a missing part that I need some help with…" he paused. "It's part of that long story that you wanted me to save for later."

"Ah," said Scarecrow. "Well, if you come with us, maybe we can actually get a chance to hear it."

Tin Man's eyes lit up again. "I can come with you?"

"Sure. The more the merrier."

"Yeah," added DJ. "It'll be great to have you around."

"Well… awesome then!" Tin Man would have been grinning his teeth out if he had teeth, or a real mouth for that matter.

"And we can hear stories around the campfire tonight." She looked pointedly at Scarecrow. "All of them."

Scarecrow nodded, and then stopped short. "No fire."

"What."

"No fire," repeated Scarecrow. He pointed to himself. "It's kind of a safety hazard when you're made out of kindling."

"Oh. Right. No fire then."

"Shall we be off then?" asked Tin Man, offering DJ his arm.

"We shall," she replied, taking it.

Scarecrow declined linking his arm with hers on the other side. "Oh, and yoink." He said, stealing DJ's katana from her once again. "I still don't feel safe with you having this."

DJ looked pointedly from Scarecrow's scythe to Tin Man's ax and back again. "So everyone gets a weapon except me?"

"Well, Toto doesn't get anything either," replied Scarecrow, starting forward. The other three followed after him. DJ, feeling spurned again, struck up a conversation with Tin Man and purposefully left Scarecrow out of it. She found out quickly that their new companion was highly cheerful, and generally agreed with everything she said. She wondered if this was just his nature, or an after effect of the life-saving. Either way, he was an absolute sweetheart, and DJ found herself liking him more and more, completely overcoming her original fear of robots.

"Your dog has such an original name," he said as they walked along. "How did you come up with it?"

"I named him after Toto Coelo."

"And that is… what?"

"This horribly awesome British pop band from the 80's. Their music is terrible and I love them for it."

"I know how you feel. When it's just so bad it's good?"

"Exactly."

"You guys might want to stop talking now," said Scarecrow quietly. They had reached a clearing, with a small, dilapidated hut sitting on one side of the road which made them stop dead in their tracks. Not that there was anything inherently scary about an abandoned hut, but when said hut is being stood on by the Wicked Witch of the West, one tends to get a little worried.

"Well, well, well," she began. "What have we hear? A stick man, no wait, a stick boy; a little girl out from down on the farm; a mangy little mutt who probably has rabies; and…" she glanced at Tin Man for the first time with a gasp. "You," she hissed.

Tin Man growled back, the lights of his eyes narrowing to the smallest of slits.

The witch tossed her hair back. "Well, no matter. It doesn't change anything." She gave DJ a mocking smile. "I heard from a little bird that you're going to see the wizard. How nice. Just don't think that you're going to make it there. Alive, that is." She gave a wicked laugh, and snapped her fingers. A wicked looking fireball appeared in her hand. She pointed at Scarecrow. "Let's start with you," she said. "How about a little fire, scarecrow?" With that, she threw the flaming mass directly at him before disappearing in another spurt of fire.


	8. Chapter 8: In which DJ dances

Many people, who think they are of particular note but really aren't, have commented on what a person goes through in the moments before they die. Commonly, the soon-to-be cadaver will see their life flashing before their eyes. In other cases, they see the faces of their loved ones. In some particularly sentimental non-secular cases, the dying wretch will see a burst of white light and the pearly gates awaiting them. Of course, not all people doomed to be dead in a second are comforted by such thoughts. All many of them can concentrate on are the fact that, oh yeah, they're about to die. In any instance, all these people are lucky enough to have a brain to automatically sort out these morbid thoughts for them.

Unfortunately for Scarecrow, as he watched the fireball come blazing towards him, the only thing he could manage to concentrate on was tomatoes.

After a millisecond contemplating the difference in juiciness between red tomatoes and yellow tomatoes, Scarecrow decided it just wasn't worth the effort, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sank into oblivion.

It was quite enjoyable at first. There was nothing to worry about. The straw boy could feel his concerns slipping away, as if they had finally decided to mind their own damn business and leave him alone. Soon, he was alone in the darkness.

He stood like this for a good fifteen seconds before he got bored, opened his eyes, and realized that he wasn't dead yet.

The first thing he noticed was DJ sprawled out on the ground in front of him, propped up on one elbow. "You can feel free to thank me any time now," she said dryly.

"Umm… thanks?" Scarecrow looked around, trying to figure out what had happened. The witch, of course, was gone. Scarecrow had seen her disappear even before the tomato thoughts began. Toto was sitting next to DJ, sniffing at her hair. The grey wolf dog did not seem to approve of his mistresses shampoo choice. Tin Man stood behind Scarecrow, rocking back on his heels. While his face was the same mask that it had been since they met, his body language said that he was probably surprised, and just as confused as Scarecrow. "So… what'd I miss?"

"Umm… just DJ saving you by jumping between you and a burning projectile," said Tin Man, finding his voice. "Just don't ask me how she's still alive."

DJ jumped to her feet, than started hopping on one leg, waving the other around for her companions to see. "Magic shoes!" she declared giddily.

"Magic shoes?" questioned Tin man.

"Magic shoes."

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "Magic shoes it is."

DJ laughed. "I'll explain during story time."

"Well, thanks for saving my life and all," Scarecrow mumbled bashfully.

"It was my pleasure," said DJ, with yet another smile. She refrained from telling the boys that she was happy because she had forgotten about the shoes protective powers until well after the attack on Scarecrow had failed. Besides, it wasn't like that was the only reason for her abundant joy. "Really. Cause you see, now I'm one up." The farm girl broke into a victory dance.

"Wait… what?"

DJ held up her fingers to keep score. "Crows, and the apple tree incident, versus a pole, the hat thing, and a fireball." DJ grabbed Tin Man's arm and twirled under it as if they were ballroom dancers. "Now you owe me."

"No way," said Scarecrow, joking, but still needed to maintain his pride all the same. "The hat thing doesn't count. I told you what to do."

"Yes, but it was up to me to do it. Which I did."

"Okay, fine, but it still doesn't make up for the fact that you cut my arm off. The fireball makes us even."

"Not a chance. The arm thing gets lumped with the apple trees. I'm up."

"You're wrong."

"Fine, then we'll leave it up to the judge." DJ turned back to Tin Man. "Are we even, or am I totally one up when it comes to saving his sorry ass?"

Tin Man looked back and forth between the two, sizing them both up. "I have no idea what you two are talking on about," he concluded.

"Ah," said DJ. "I guess that mean's its story time."

"Here's as good a place as any" said Scarecrow, gesturing to the derelict house the witch had used as a stage minutes before. "It's a shelter, and I bet there are still lights inside. Plus there's no way the witch will find us here."

"Why's that?"

"Because who would be stupid enough to stay in the place where they were just attacked and almost murdered?"

DJ and Tin Man both looked at him with smiles (or in Tin Man's case, the approximation of a smile). "Only us," admitted the metal man.

"Only us," repeated Scarecrow. "So, story time."


	9. Chapter 9: In which a closet is opened

"So, who goes first?" asked DJ after the three humanoids and Toto had settled into the hut. There was no furniture, let alone the sort of overly squishy sofa that DJ was craving at the moment, but Scarecrow had been right about the working light. DJ wondered what powered it. It certainly wasn't electricity as she knew it, although admittedly, that wasn't very well. She made a mental note to ask about it later, and then promptly forgot.

"How about we draw straws to choose order?" suggested Scarecrow offering his arm to the others where bits of straw were poking through his sleeve. "Shortest goes first and longest goes last?"

"Agreed," said DJ and Tin Man in unison. All three plucked a piece of straw. DJ had drawn the shortest, winding up with only two inches of a golden yellow stem. Tin Man hadn't gotten much luckier than she had. Scarecrow's piece was about a foot long.

DJ blinked a few times. "I get the distinct feeling you cheated."

Scarecrow shrugged, collecting the pieces and stuffing them back into place unceremoniously. "It's not my fault you agreed to it. Start the story."

DJ sighed, and mumbled sometime about phallic symbols and over compensation under her breath, but never the less launched into her tale. "I grew up in a place called Kansas, which is a long way from here and exceptionally dull…" she related the whole story to them, starting with Toto being taken away. DJ never thought of herself as a great storyteller, but her audience seemed interested enough as she told them about the tornado, Glinda and Kitty, the magic red Chucks, finding and having the living daylights scared out of her by Scarecrow, the apple trees, and eventually, finding and again having the living daylights scared out of her by Tin Man. Scarecrow had heard most of the story already, and had even been in a good chunk of it, so was less interested than Tin Man, who was as engrossed in the story as a third grade boy in his older brother's video game, urging DJ to keep going every time she stopped for a breath.

"And that's how I wound up with you guys," DJ finished lamely.

"Whoa," said Tin Man. He turned to Scarecrow. "She's one up."

Scarecrow groaned as DJ did another small victory dance in the background. "You're turn, metal man. How did you end up stuck in the middle of the road?"

"Well, like I said earlier, I forgot a lot of stuff," began the Tin Man with a shrug. "I'm pretty sure I grew up around here someplace, and I know I was a woodsman for a living." He gave a friendly pat to his ax. "The rest of my past is kind of a blur, but there's one thing I can remember like it happened yesterday."

"What's that?" asked DJ when Tin Man paused for dramatic effect after that last statement.

"Falling in love," replied Tin Man with a dreamy sigh. DJ couldn't help but let out a small squeal of delight. There was something so romantic about the way it had been said. Tin Man leaned back and continued. "He was the most wonderful person I had ever met."

"He?" Scarecrow raised his eyebrows slightly.

DJ pounded the floor lightly with her fist. "All the good ones…" she muttered to herself.

"Yep," said Tin Man with another dreamy sigh. "Raphael. I could never forget him, even if I did go and forget my own name. He had the most beautiful raven hair, and blue eyes that could hold the entire universe in their gaze. Not to mention being an absolute darling, with a voice sweeter than a nightingale and a kind, generous heart." Scarecrow quietly pretended to throw up, and even DJ rolled her eyes the way one does at lovers. Tin Man was too caught up in his own story to notice, and at least Toto seemed interested.

"Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one to note him," continued Tin Man. "There was this girl, who had deluded herself into thinking that Raphael loved her, despite the fact that she wasn't his type and nothing more than a common… well, there's not really a kind way to put it."

Scarecrow and DJ simultaneously supplied the phrase that Tin Man had been avoiding, causing him to inadvertently show DJ exactly how a robot could blush. After the steam had died down and DJ and Toto had stopped coughing, Tin Man resumed his narrative. "I'm afraid I can't recall her name at the moment either, but she used to be called the Wicked Witch of the East."He turned to DJ. "And I must admit I am more than pleased to find out she is dead. Of course, it was her sister that was the real problem."

"Why am I not surprised?" said DJ. "Well, at least that explains how she knew you." Scarecrow nodded in agreement with both statements.

"She's a real piece of work, that one." Tin Man's hand automatically fell to the handle of his ax in a much more sinister way than previously before he continued on. "She decided to help out her sister by eliminating the competition."

"Well, that didn't work," scoffed DJ. "You're still here."

Tin Man looked downcast. "Not all of me," he mumbled.

"Wait," said DJ, the proverbial light bulb going off above her head, "the witch did this to you?"

"As nice as it is to be made of metal and strong and stuff, it's not what I would have chosen." He tapped his chest. "It's not easy being heartless."

"But how did she do it?" asked Scarecrow, sensing an action scene approaching and eager to be out of tear territory.

"She put a spell on my ax. I thought it was just an accident the first time or two. A slip of the hand here and I lose a toe. Painful, but not too bad, and nothing to be too worried about. And there was a metal smith down the road who made me replacement limbs. But after a while, I knew something was wrong. By then of course, it was too late. Even when I tried to get rid of the ax it would just fly on back to me and there goes another limb and, well, you get the picture."

DJ did get the picture, and believed it just might make her hurl. "That's..." she began but just couldn't find an adjective strong enough to express her disgust and pity.

"It's sick and twisted," finished Scarecrow. He placed his hand on the metal man's shoulder. "Someone's going to make that bitch pay one day, and I sure hope I'm around to help when they do."

"That'd be nice," said Tin Man, his eyes brightening into a smile. "In any case, her plan didn't even work. She thought my becoming a prosthetic man would drive Raphael away, but it only made him grow more attached. He told me he liked playing nursemaid to me, and we ended up spending more time together than ever. It almost felt like having a heart again. Well, that made both sisters angry, as you can imagine."

"What'd they do?" asked DJ, as eager for Tin Man to draw a breath as he had been during her story.

"Well, I believe the Wicked Witch of the East swore off men entirely and burnt down a rather large Munchkin village. But the Wicked Witch of the West, she took Raphael and she well…" Tin Man broke off, and started letting off a series of loud mechanical bleeps and blips. It took DJ a few seconds to realize her new friend was trying to cry.

Scarecrow leaned over. "While sometimes she just leaves them to hang in a field for years, it is a well known fact that people who displease the Wicked Witch of the West may also be taken prisoner, held in a dungeon, and used as lab rats for the witch to practice new and painful spells on until they die in what they can only hope is a short time."

DJ let out a small cry of dismay. Scarecrow growled. "It's despicable and cruel. I really, really hate that witch."

Eventually, with many sympathetic words, gestures, and friendly licks from all three of his companions, (the last thankfully only being offered by Toto) Tin Man regained his composure. "And now I can't even properly cry over it," he whimpered. "At this point, all I really want to be able to do is cry, but I can't. That's why I need to see the wizard. If I could just feel again, then at least I could morn. The inability is driving me mad."

"I'm so sorry, Tin Man," said DJ, giving him a small hug.

"I'll be alright," said Tin Man. "At least once I've seen the wizard. I seem to remember my mother telling me how much better a good cry can make you feel."

They sat in silence for a few moments, soaking in what they had just heard. Tin Man, feeling slightly embarrassed about revealing his entire known past to people he had met only a few hours earlier, was eager to switch subjects. He turned to Scarecrow. "I guess that leaves you."

DJ perked up a little at this. "It's about damn time, too."

Scarecrow sunk down even further in his place. He sighed. "Where to even begin?" He sat in contemplation for a moment, and then his head snapped up as if it were one of those creepy and often times possessed jack-in-the-boxes. "What was that?" he asked.

"What was what?" asked Tin Man, looking around, startled.

"You didn't hear anything?" questioned the stick man.

"No," said DJ, concerned at first, and then indignant. "Hey, if you're trying to weasel you're way out of telling your story _again_, I swear I'm going to…"

"Shut up," he interrupted, standing now. The others rose with him, Tin Man still nervous and DJ still angry. "Get in the corner," he told the latter.

"What's going on?" she asked, as the other two stood in front of her, weapons drawn as if they actually thought is necessary to guard her (which they did), with Toto helping, of course.

"Will you please shut up so I can listen?" hissed Scarecrow. Once again, he handed her the katana that he obviously felt she shouldn't have, giving her a "this is just in case" glance as he did so.

Despite her belief that this was just another ploy to avoid story time, DJ took a moment to listen, and was rewarded with the sound of the wind and nothing else. She began to say so, and got as far as "All I hear…" before Scarecrow once again silenced her.

"I don't hear anything," ventured Tin Man a minute later.

"Trust me," said Scarecrow. "The straw give me great hearing."

Although she slept through most of her science classes, DJ had grown up on a farm, and didn't believe the physics were quite right there. "How?"

"Straw is a great conductor of sound."

"Better than metal? Since when?"

"Since always."

"You can't hear anything through a bunch of straw."

"Yeah, because the straw catches it all."

DJ blinked a few times. "I think you're wrong."

"And I think you're still talking too loudly despite the numerous times I've told you to shut up."

The two would have continued arguing for a possibly infinite amount of time if there had not suddenly been a very obvious and audible crack from outside the window. "What was that?" asked DJ.

"Oh sure," sneered Scarecrow. "_Now_ you believe me." The other two shushed him.

From behind the two men, and Toto, DJ saw a quick flash of white at the window, and then heard something running away. "Did you see it?" asked Scarecrow quickly.

"Not really," replied Tin Man. "You don't think it was a spy for the witch, do you?"

"It's possible," said Scarecrow, "and not worth the risk if it is. Don't let it get away."

The two ran out, pausing only to tell DJ and Toto to wait where they were. DJ stood, stunned, for about two seconds. "The hell I will," she stated to the empty hut, and ran off after them with Toto fast behind her.


	10. Chapter 10: In which Team DJ is rejected

DJ was a fairly quick runner, and, although Tin Man had longer legs, being made of metal weighed him down quite a bit. As a result, she quickly caught up to and passed the first of her companions. Scarecrow, on the other hand, was both taller and was made entirely of sticks and straw, thus faster than both of them (and 90% of all flightless birds), and already had the mysterious intruder cornered against a tree with his scythe by the time the others got there.

DJ was shocked. "It's a lion."

"Why, yes" said Tin Man. "Yes it is."

Right away, DJ could tell this was no ordinary lion. For one thing, it was standing on its hind legs, weakly trying to paw away the pointy end of the scythe with his front claws. He was huge, even taller than Tin Man. DJ was taken aback that someone so big had been able to run as fast as it had. The lion's fur was nearly white, and seemed to be matted and falling out in patches. Despite this, his mane, as well and thick clumps of hair on his four feet and at the end of his tail, looked rather healthier than the rest of him and was a golden color that almost glowed in the moonlight. The oddities did not end there, however. DJ, a fan of the zoo in her earlier years, had only seen lions with huge, gapping maws perfect for hunting. This lion's mouth was tiny. Exceedingly tiny. DJ could barely make it out. Also, the lion appeared to be doing exactly as Tin Man had failed to do minutes earlier. He was crying. Loudly. DJ made a wild guess and presumed he could talk. She was right.

"Please… don't… hurt me," the lion sobbed out in a quiet voice. "I don't… wanna die."

"Then start talking," said Scarecrow, moving the scythe a bit closer.

The lion let out another huge sob. "I'll talk! I'll talk!" Another sob and a deep breath later, the lion did just this, quickly enough to put an auctioneer to shame.

"My name is Lion. I was born here in the forest. Everyone thought I would be king when I grew up but I was scared of politics, so I ran away and hid. It worked for a while, but then the witch came and declared that the entire forest was hers and I got scared, and had to hide even more. And I used to hide in that old abandoned house but then the witch was there earlier today, so I ran away, but I thought she might of left so I came back to see. Then I saw you and got scared and I was going to leave again. You can have the house, I don't care. Just please don't hurt me." At this point, the big cat broke into uncontrollable bawling and, scythe or no scythe, had to sink to the ground.

As it was the scythe was moving away from his neck. Scarecrow glanced doubtfully at the others. "What do you guys think?"

"I want to believe him," said Tin Man. "He seems very earnest."

DJ's answer took longer. "I believe him," she said at last. "He's a guy. If that was a lie, he would have made himself sound less… umm…"

"Cowardly," finished Scarecrow. "Yeah, I thought so too." He took one more moment to contemplate his prisoner. "Well, either he's telling the truth or he's so good of and actor we deserve to let him kill us in our sleep." He put away his scythe. Likewise, Tin Man lowered his ax. DJ sneakily strapped her katana to her back, vowing that Scarecrow wasn't taking it away without a fight this time. Only Toto remained on guard, but he was rather biased against cats to begin with.

Scarecrow poked at Lion with his boot. "You can get up now. We're not going to kill you."

Lion stopped crying. "Really?"

"Really," answered DJ. "Although we are going to give you a lecture."

"We are?" asked Tin Man.

"We are," replied DJ. She focused on Lion. "Now listen, you can't just go running away every time you get scared or nervous. We all feel panicked sometimes, but you have to face your responsibilities head on, or else you'll never prove your worth. You've got to have courage."

Lion started crying again. "Very moving," commented Scarecrow dryly.

"I was hoping it would help more than this. My uncle gave me that speech before every softball game I played," said DJ. "I never started crying though."

"That's because you're brave," wailed the lion. "I don't have any courage."

"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself," said Tin Man, trying to comfort him.

"It's true though," the lion cried back. "I was born without any. And I'll just have to hide until the day I die, and everyone will laugh, but I don't care as long as they promise not to hurt me. I don't wanna die!" He sunk down even lower.

"We've got to do something," said Tin Man.

"Agreed," said Scarecrow. "I vote for leaving." DJ hit him. "Hey, I was just kidding. How cruel do you think I am?"

"I'm beginning to wonder," DJ replied.

"Very funny," mocked Scarecrow, leaning his head to the lion's level without bothering to bend his knees. DJ wasn't sure if she was still angry or just jealous of his flexibility. "Look, Lion, I realize that it must be hard for you to not have any courage, but that's not going to change unless you do something about it. So, why don't you come with us?"

"With… you?" asked Lion, looking slightly hopeful since the first time since they had met. At the very least he wasn't crying anymore, bringing some welcome relief to the others' ears.

"Sure," replied Scarecrow. "We're going to see the Wizard of Oz. I'm trying to find my brain; and DJ over there is trying to get back herself and her dog, Toto, home to a place called Kansas; and Tin Man needs a heart. If the wizard can help us, I'm sure he'll be able to do something for you. Plus we're all not too big on this witch, and it looks like you're in the same boat there, so it should be quite splendid."

"That would be… nice," said Lion still looking slightly scared, but standing up all the same.

"It's agreed then," said DJ walking up. Lion jumped back when she reached out her hand, but hesitantly accepted her handshake a few moments later. "Welcome to the team."

"Yeah," said Tin Man, getting caught up in the excitement. "Go Team Wizard!"

"That is a horrible name," said Scarecrow. "We need something flashier, like Team Witch-hunter or Team Kick Ass."

"Sounds a bit violent," offered Lion quietly. They began walking. Although he had been on two feet (or huddled on the ground) during their talk, Lion walked on all fours, bringing his head down to below DJ's level, and making for easier conversation.

"I vote for Team DJ," said the girl from Kansas.

"No," said both Tin Man and Scarecrow in unison.

They ended up arguing all the way back to their abandoned shelter. DJ found it funny that they already seemed to be a team. They had all walked back, knowing exactly where to go despite the fact no one had mentioned coming back to the hut. And while they hadn't managed to decide on a name yet, they were all willing to have one. Front runners seemed to be Team Outlaw and Team Cool Beans.

When they reached the old cottage, there were a few minutes of rowdiness as DJ tried to get Toto to remain in the same room with Lion with growling or trying to attack the bigger animal. Eventually, Toto seemed to just give up, and curled up to go to sleep. DJ rounded on Scarecrow, who was leaning against the doorframe. "That's one excuse to many. It's time to talk."

"I'd love to," he replied. "But I'd really rather not have to tell it twice." He gestured to their companions, who both appeared to be sleeping. (It was harder to tell with Tin Man, but his eyes were almost out, and he was hunched over in what might be a comfortable position if you were an oversized robot.)

"Great," DJ moaned.

"We should try to get some sleep too," said Scarecrow. "It's been a long day."

"I know. That's why I can't sleep."

"Same here."

They stood in silence for a few moments, looking at the moon. Then, out of the corner of her eye, DJ caught a glimpse of Scarecrow's hand sneaking towards her katana. She spun away. "Oh, no," she said. "I promised myself. This time you're not getting it without a fight."

"And I told you that you needed to learn how to use it."

"What, and you're going to teach me?"

"Why not?" He stepped outside. "Two sleepless friends in a clearing on a moonlit night? What could be better than some battle lessons right now?"

Scarecrow pulled his scythe from his back. DJ stepped outside, unsheathing her katana as she went, though still a bit speculative. "Do you know anything about using a katana?"

"More than you'd think," he said with a smile.

"Part of your story?"

"Maybe. I guess you'll find out tomorrow." He stepped towards her. "Okay, first we work on your footwork. If you can get it down by the time we quit, I'll let you keep the sword tomorrow."

"You're on."


	11. Chapter 11: In which a flush beats aces

_A/N: An update? Shocking! I know, I know, and I'm uber sorry. I've been caught up with some other projects lately, but I'm going on an absolute writing binge this week to try to make it up. Thanks to everyone who's reading this and putting up with me, and for all the great comments. You people rock._

DJ found that, if nothing else, Scarecrow was true to his word. For starters, he had taken her katana away when she didn't get her footing right, even though she protested her concentration had been compromised because it was two in the morning and she was exhausted.

Secondly, and even more shockingly, he finally got around to telling his story the next morning.

She was the last to wake up. After all, it is a universal fact that all teenagers, even those raised on farms, tend to oversleep. As she had slept, Tin Man had been getting Lion up to speed on the tales from last night, and Scarecrow had been utterly failing to find anything for breakfast except leftover apples from the day before. She was also bemused to find that Lion could eat apples, although she supposed, in retrospect, if a lion could talk he might as well be an omnivore.

Scarecrow, daunted by the idea that he finally must reveal the embarrassment of his past (and because he didn't have a good breakfast), was in a sour mood. This made him take on temperament of a drill sergeant going through PMS. While DJ and (to a lesser, more sympathetic extent) Tin Man found it annoying as hell, Lion took it as an improvement on Scarecrow's attempts on his life the night before and managed only to whimper quietly in the corner instead of breaking out into tears whenever the straw figure yelled at him.

All right, Team Asshole!" he shouted as soon as the apples were gone. "Everybody out the door now and maybe you douches can make it to the Emerald City before nightfall."

"But, story time!" protested DJ.

"Walk and talk. Now move it, cupcake."

The others accordingly filled out, and started down the road. Scarecrow took the lead, marching ahead of the others at a pace that fell just short of making DJ and Lion have to jog to keep up. Tin Man just took longer strides to compensate. Scarecrow glanced behind him, and started mumbling curses under his breath.

"I really hope you're just getting your voice warmed up," said DJ. Scarecrow flipped her off and continued mumbling.

"Hey, Tin Man," said DJ, taking the moment to clear up a small discrepancy that had been bugging her. "Mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure," replied her companion.

"It's about your past. I was thinking it over last night, and there are some holes in your story."

"Like what?"

"Well, you never told us why you never got a heart from the tinsmith in the first place."

"I don't really remember myself," admitted Tin Man.

"Probably expense," grumbled Scarecrow, finally being audible.

"The heart isn't a vital organ for prosthetic men; it only functions to help emotional stability. It's also not a cheap part to get, so most people just leave it out," came a quiet voice. The entire group turned in amazement to Lion. He shrunk back against their gazes. "I overheard some travelers talking about it when I was hiding from them."

"Okay," said DJ, with an approving nod. She turned back to Tin Man. "I'll accept that, but how did you wind up stuck in the middle of the road for ten years?"

This time, the travelers looked at her. Even Toto gave her a look. "I got caught in the rain, of course," said Tin Man. "I guess I didn't make that very clear, but I thought you would have just figured that out. I mean, it's kind of obvious right?"

"I thought it was pretty obvious," whispered Lion.

"Only rain can screw up a prosthetic man like that without messing up the wiring," said Scarecrow, turning away again. "You need to find something to jar them loose to get them going again."

"Well how was I supposed to know that?" exclaimed DJ. "Stop looking at me like I'm an idiot! And how does a hat jar something loose anyways?"

"Good question," commented Tin Man.

Scarecrow sighed. "So we're back to me than? Fine. But before I begin I just want you to know that I deeply resent you all for making me do this."

DJ glanced between Lion and Tin Man. "I think we can live with that."

Scarecrow muttered something that cannot be repeated in respectable company, but which sounded an awful lot like "brother-bucking gas moles". Then he sighed, and began. "For starters, I had a weird childhood. I was born in Emerald City, but my parents had this tendency to move a lot." He scratched his head. "Well, okay, it wasn't so much a tendency as it was my older sister kept getting us ostracized and/or kicked out of everywhere we went."

"Why?" asked DJ.

"I was getting to that," snapped Scarecrow. "I told you, it was a weird childhood. How 'bout giving me half a second to explain before bombarding me with questions?"

DJ kicked him, but she did it silently, so Scarecrow decided to proceed. "Well, Aubrey… that's my sister… she really, _really_ wanted to be a witch when she grew up. So she would always be practicing magic; which wouldn't have been a problem, except that she totally sucked at it. I mean really. _Totally_ sucked. You would not believe the vast amount of suckage. She tried to make a flower bloom once and ended up setting a tree on fire on the other side of the yard."

"Yikes" said Tin Man, sounding vaguely sympathetic.

"She does sound pretty dumb," added Lion, trying to avoid argument by agreeing with the others' opinions. He probably should have chosen a different time to try.

"Oy!" exclaimed Scarecrow, whirling on him. "No one's allowed to insult my little sister except me. Got it?"

Lion hid behind Tin Man. DJ gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder, and then stepped up to call Scarecrow out on his bullshit. "Okay, A) don't be so mean, or I'll kick you again. B) "Little sister?" You already told us she was older than you."

"She is older than me. But she's still my little sister."

DJ began to consider the implications of time discrepancies in Oz, and had gotten to the point where her brain hurt before Scarecrow noticed the cross-eyed look on her face and decided to explain. "She may have been born first, but I've always been the one looking out for her and taking care of her. For all intensive purposes, she's my little sis."

"Which is why," he continued, "I would always kind of encourage her to keep practicing magic. I'd be the one helping her clean up when something went wrong… so all of the time, basically. And I'd tell her she just needed more work and all that kind of sentimental encouragement stuff that people says when their friends are down even though the recipient is thickheaded and never really believes them."

Tin Man would have blushed a bit at this point, but couldn't so his disagreement with the previous statement went unnoticed. "Well, the weird thing was it actually helped in this case." Tin Man inwardly smiled as his faith in humanity was restored. "She started getting a bit better. It actually got to the point where we felt safe to actually start communicating with the rest of the family again. So I kept it up. And it kept working. And so what was I supposed to say when she asked for a volunteer?"

Tin Man gasped a bit, guessing the ending of the story. "Volunteer for what?"

"I can't remember the technical term since my brain's gone, but the long and short of it was taking a human consciousness and putting it in an inanimate object."

"And it went wrong?" asked DJ. "That's how you got stuck like this?"

"Nope," replied Scarecrow. "It actually worked perfectly. And it was kind of cool, and Aubrey was so excited because it was the first big spell she had managed to pull off successfully, and she would earn her entrance to Shiz University in a heartbeat once she showed me off. So the two of us took a little trip back to Emerald City and got Aubrey her acceptance letter."

"Okay," said DJ. "So, Shiz University? Is that some sort of Hogwarts-esque wizard school?"

"I don't know what Hogwarts is, but Shiz is the premier University in all Oz and offers an excellent major in sorcery, so… yes."

"So where's the problem?"

"Well, I'm not saying we were bad off, but our parents weren't exactly the richest of people, and Aubrey and I were staying in what might be considered the seedy side of town… ah, screw it. It was the ghetto. Anyways I met some people there, we got to chatting, and they mentioned maybe playing a game to pass the time and... well…" the rest of the sentence was mumbled at an inaudible level.

"Come again?"

"I lost my body in a poker game?" Scarecrow winced and shrunk back.

"WHAT!" yelled the other three simultaneously. Well, DJ yelled. Tin Man exclaimed in horror and pity. Lion gasped as quietly as he could in his current state of shock.

"You bet your body?" asked Lion.

"You were gambling, with stakes that high, in that part of town?" seconded Tin Man.

"You have poker here?" finished DJ excitedly. The others gave her another look. "What? I mean, yeah, the other stuff's intense too, but I finally found something in common with home. This excites me."

"Wow," mouthed Tin Man, turning back to Scarecrow for further explanation.

"In my defense," he began, "I had a pair of aces, and the odds of my opponent actually drawing that flash were slim to nil."

"That's not a good excuse, Scarecrow," said Tin Man, shaking his head. "You should know better. I mean, the very idea of gambling is just so wrong."

"Hey," said Scarecrow, trying to defend himself. "Didn't I save your life? Shouldn't you be agreeing with everything I say? All that good hero worship stuff?"

"Just because I'm grateful doesn't mean I have to condone all of your mistakes."

As Tin Man was chastising the young straw man, DJ turned to Lion. "So, wait. If Scarecrow was using his body for money… does that make him a hoe?"

"Hoe?"

"Whore."

"Oh. Well, yeah. Kind of. I guess."

DJ started giggling. "That's funny?" asked Lion.

"I'm tired, I'm in a land that I only learned existed yesterday, and the only thing I've eaten in two days is apples. This is hilarious."

"Anyways," called Scarecrow, bring them all back to his story. To make a long story short…"

"Too late," interrupted DJ, more by force of habit then because she actually found the story dragging.

"I managed to win back most of my body by the end of the night, but they still made off with my brain. Why they wanted a brain, I don't know. I don't even think I would know if I had my brain. But they took it, ran, and Aubrey and I were left with a serious problem. Since my body wasn't whole anymore, the magic keeping me straw would deteriorate and with no brain in my body I would die. And since I didn't really feel like dying at the time, I had to find magical source to compensate for the difference."

"Oh!" said DJ, the light bulb clicking in her head as she recalled the first conversation she had ever had with Scarecrow. "Like a stolen witch's hat for example."

"Exactly."

"And if it's a magic source, it would fix my rain problem," added Tin Man.

"Exactly," repeated Scarecrow. "But after I stole it, I got caught. They only let me keep it because the witch-bitch kept screaming something about "contaminated property" and "staying alive to suffer your punishment." So I got stuck up on a pole, DJ rescued me, and here we all are."

"So what happened to Aubrey? And your body?" asked Lion.

"Aubrey's still at Shiz University," said Scarecrow. "I couldn't very well make a thief out of her when all her dreams were about to come true, so I went off on my own and told her never to admit that we were related. Same with our parents. They didn't like it, but I convinced them I'd be back after I got it all straightened out. My parents did keep my body for safekeeping though. Aubrey froze it in time, and they've got it hidden under the floorboards, waiting till I get my brain back. "

"One last thing," said DJ. "Why didn't you just go to the wizard in the first place? Before you stole the hat?"

"Couldn't get in," said Scarecrow, sighing. "I hate to be the bearer to bad news, team, but this isn't going to be easy. Almost no one actually gets an audience with him."

After that, they all lapsed in a sort of grim silence, which Toto seemed to find very depressing, so he ran on ahead of them. He came back a few minutes later, sneezing.

DJ had to laugh a bit. "Flowers, eh boy?"

"Huh?" asked Scarecrow.

"Flowers make Toto sneeze. Uncle Henry used to tease me about it. Said only I would pick a dog with allergies."

They rounded a bend and found themselves out of the woods. Closer than any of them would have guessed, they saw a huge cluster of green buildings rising up out of the ground: a monument to innovation and all those Sunday afternoons sitting around bored trying to think up ways to prove to your neighbor that anything he can build you can build bigger.

"The very aptly named Emerald City," announced Scarecrow, sweeping his arm like a tour guide.

"It's beautiful," gasped DJ. She pointed to the field separating them from the walls of the city. "And I was right. See? Poppies."

In a dark corner of a castle, watching the scene through a big red crystal ball of evil stood a green-skinned hag. "Yes," she laughed along with the girl from Kansas. "Poppies!"


	12. Chapter 12: In which Toto claims a kill

Scarecrow stood alone in the field, trying, as best as he could without a brain, to piece together the last few minutes and figure out where it had all gone wrong.

It had started innocently, albeit irreverently, enough. Lion had yawned. "Sorry," he said.

Then DJ yawned. "Crap. Me too? Sorry. I guess it really is contagious."

Lion lost footing on one of his legs and half-fell to the ground. "Oops."

"Are you alright?" asked Tin Man.

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm just really tired all of a sudden."

"Same here," said DJ, stretching. "Maybe we should all take a little nap." She sat down in the grass. Toto, whom she had been holding to keep him away from the flowers, had already fallen asleep in her arms.

"For real?" said Scarecrow. "You guys just woke up."

DJ shushed him. "And now it's nap time."

Lion lay down next to her. "I don't like sleeping in the day, though," he said, shutting eyes. "I'm always scared that something will sneak up on me without the dark to keep me hidden." He yawned again.

"Don't worry, big guy," said DJ, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll keep you safe." With that they both slumped over, much in the manner of students during a history lecture. DJ nudged a bit closer so she could use Lion as a pillow, but apart from that there was no movement.

"What the hell?" asked Scarecrow, more to himself then Tin Man.

Tin Man shrugged, but his eyes seemed concerned. "Do you think they're alright?"

"Yeah," said the other, bending over them. "Looks like they're just asleep."

"Are you sure?" asked the other, a note a panic entering his voice. His speech started to speed up. "I mean, something has to be wrong, right? Because they were fine a minute ago. So something must have gone wrong. What if it's the witch again? Ohdeargod I betshe's tryingtomesswithusagainandwe''llreallydie ifshekeepsthisupandthenshe'llhaveeverythingshe wantsandwe'llbetotallyscrewedover…" At this point, Tin Man's pace was making hummingbirds look slow, and Scarecrow couldn't understand a word he was saying. He did, however, hear a few ominous pops coming from Tin Man that sounded like a discouragingly large amount of fuses being blown. He gripping the other by the shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"Okay, you need to calm down. Just take a deep breath, okay?"

"ButIdon'tneedtobreathe."

"Well, then clear your head!" exclaimed Scarecrow, frustrated. Why was Tin Man choosing now, of all times, to get hung up on the details?

Tin Man nodded and stood still for a moment. "Okay, clearmyhead, clearmyhead…" He was silent for a moment and then said in a voice that sounded nothing like his own "all systems shutting down."

"What?" shouted Scarecrow. "Damn it, Tin Man, I didn't mean clear it that much!" The complaint didn't reach Tin Man in time though. The lights in his eyes glittered and went out, putting Tin Man into a deep sleep mode. A moment later, a large, gargling snore from Lion reminded Scarecrow of his other problem. Scarecrow threw his hands up in the air in futility, closed his eyes, and counted to ten.

Scarecrow stood alone in the field, trying, as best as he could without a brain, to piece together the last few minutes and figure out where it had all gone wrong. He had a sleeping dog, girl, and lion; as well as a lifeless prosthetic man that he had to take care of, and they were still too far off from the city to expect any help from there. "Well," he announced to the air. "I'm screwed."

He turned to his companions, looking them over. He started with Tin Man, but try as he might, he couldn't actually find the "on" switch, and he didn't want to risk trying to hotwire his friend, less something horrible happen and he blow them all to smithereens. Although that would make a really cool spectacle… He shook his head to clear the last thought from it. He tried the sleepers next, shaking them and yelling at them to move their lazy bums. He even tried yanking on Lion's whiskers, but ended up just pulling a few of them out. "Note to self: deny this later."

He glanced down at DJ, but didn't really expect to find a lot of help there. Somewhere in the back of his conscience, the phrase "magic shoes" drifted by, but he let it slip. He was used to having meaningless phrases come and go in his brainless head. He looked at Toto, but there really wasn't anything to see there either. Something inexplicable drew his eye back to DJ, but he couldn't figure out what. "Magic shoes" drifted by again, but he shot it down. "I picked a great time to go crazy," he mumbled.

At this point, his conscience was getting fed up with being ignored. "MAGIC SHOES!" it shouted in his head. Scarecrow winced, and then widened his eyes. "Ohhhh!" He wacked himself on the side of the head for being so thick, quickly crammed the hat he had almost knocked off back into place, and then wacked himself on the leg for being extra thick. Then he bent down next to DJ's feet.

The first thing he noticed was the poppies, or rather, the lack thereof. Every single flower around DJ's feet was dead. Not crumpled. Not wilted. Dead. It seemed every flower that had come in contact with the soles of her shoes had chosen that moment of contact to say goodbye to the cruel, cruel world and try their hands (or rather, petals,) at the afterlife. "So," Scarecrow thought aloud. "The magical defending shoes don't like poppies. Good to know." He stood up again, pulling his scythe off his back, and took a sweep at some of the flowers. The blade passed through the stems without disturbing them in the slightest. It was like they were made of air. Dangerous, evil air, but air all the same. "This would have to be difficult," grumbled Scarecrow.

He went back to examining DJ's shoes. Carefully, he reached out to touch one of them, not knowing exactly what to do. It was one thing to have an asset pointed out to you. It was quite another to figure out what to do with it. The instant his finger made contact with the shoe, DJ's other foot roundhouse kicked him in the face, knocking him backwards. DJ would later comment that Chuck Norris would have been proud.

Scarecrow picked himself up and looked at the girl. She was still fast asleep. "Instinctual response?" he thought to himself. He sighed. He had used to be so good with logic. Now he couldn't even figure this out. The straw boy looked over his companions, willing them to come back to life. When that utterly failed, he decided it was time to try something stupid. That always seemed to work well for him. He leaped forward, grabbing one of DJ's shoes, and held on for dear life as the other foot rained blows down on his head, trying to get him off.

Being thankful once more that he couldn't feel pain, Scarecrow held on until DJ finally stirred a bit. "Whjama…" she mumbled. "Why are my feet moving?"

"Good, you're awake," said Scarecrow, letting go of the shoe and dragging DJ to her feet.

"Not really," she mumbled, her eyelids already shutting again. He slapped her. "Ow…"

"You've gotta stay awake, DJ," said Scarecrow, bending so he could put one of her arms over his shoulder. He took hold of her waist with his other arm, and started half leading, half dragging her around the field. "Now come on. Start crushing these flowers."

"But they're so pretty…" said the still sleep addled DJ.

"No they're not. They're evil."

"You're just cruel," said DJ, swatting at Scarecrow without enthusiasm and missing with even less enthusiasm. "I think they're pretty, but you think its evil. It's all evil. So cynical. And pessi… pessimistic. Cynical and pessimistic. Cyni-mistic." DJ chuckled to herself. "You're a cinnamon stick."

"Do you always act drunk when you're tired?"

"Maybe."

"Whatever," said Scarecrow, shaking his head. "Just keep smashing flowers." He was leading her in circles around Lion, Toto, and Tin Man. It seemed to be working too. Everywhere DJ's feet touched, there were more flower suicides. DJ seemed to be getting less tired, which was a good indication. When she seemed mostly awake (and started acting sober again) Scarecrow told her his theory.

"So the poppies are making us sleepy?" DJ asked when he was done.

"So it would seem."

"And you and Tin Man weren't affected… why?"

"Not sure. I guess it depends on how the poppies work. Let's say they release a scent that causes sleep. I don't have lungs, and Tin Man's are… well, tin, so that doesn't work. Or it could be that they produce pollen that seeps into your pores, so that would leave us unaffected too. Or maybe it actually classifies its prey and only attacks animals, so it would only go after you three since Tin Man is all mineral and I'm technically a vegetable."

"You know, you are freakishly smart some times."

"Meh," said Scarecrow with a shrug. "It comes and goes."

When they had finished clearing every poppy in a twenty foot radius (DJ picturing them as mushrooms and humming the Super Mario Brothers theme song while doing so), they returned to where the others were still snoozing like parents of a newborn whose mother had decided to take the brat for the night. At least Toto was already waking up, and he bound over to lick his master. Then he leaped on top of Lion, claiming this kill as his own.

"Sorry, boy," said DJ, "but you're going to have to move or be squished." Toto leaped off, and between the two of them, DJ and Scarecrow actually accomplished the Herculean effort of rolling him over. DJ quickly stomped out the flowers he had fallen on top of.

"What's going on?" slurred Lion, waking up.

"Oh, not much," replied Scarecrow. "You just missed me heroically warding off a gigantic gang of thieves who tried to attack you in your sleep and then waking you all up by sheer force of awesomeness."

"I think you might be lying," said Lion skeptically.

"Who? Me? Nooo…" said Scarecrow. "Don't be silly." DJ wondered if all lions couldn't understand sarcasm, or if it was just theirs.

"That just leaves Tin Man," she said, turning the attention back to their final friend. "So where's the 'on' switch?"

"I couldn't find it," said Scarecrow joining her. "Any ideas?" he asked Lion over his shoulder.

Lion came up next to them, going up on two legs as he did so. "Sorry, no."

"Could we do the hat thing again?" DJ asked Scarecrow.

His brow crumpled. "We could try it," he started, then frowned and shook his head. "But I don't know if I'd come back this time. It's dangerous to keep taking it on and off. Let's save it for the last resort."

"Agreed," said Lion. He was quickly growing fond of Scarecrow in an I-don't-think-this-guy-is-going-to-kill-me-in-my-sleep-anymore kind of way.

"Well," said DJ, inspired by something Scarecrow had said. "We've got to start somewhere." She took a stance that she had seen fake faith healers take when she was channel surfing. "Boom!" she shouted. "The power of DJ compels you!"

Nothing happened.

"Well. I'm out of ideas," she said, giving Tin Man a small kick.

"System rebooting," said the un-Tin Man voice that Scarecrow had heard when the man was shutting down. Tin Man's eyes lit up again. "Oh, hey," he said. "You're awake. Great. So what'd I miss?"

Scarecrow and Lion turned to DJ, eyes widening. She struck a victory pose. "Haha! I can't believe that worked! I am _so_ awesome!"

"Or it could be, you know, the magic shoes," said Scarecrow, frowning.

"Jealous?" she asked, waving her foot around. She stopped when she saw that Scarecrow was still frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Well, if your magic shoes can start Tin Man up, then I didn't even need to give him my hat in the first place."

"Oh," said DJ. In the background, she could hear Lion getting Tin Man up to speed. "Well, sorry. I didn't even think to use them back then. I'm not even sure exactly what they can do yet." She looked down at her feet.

Scarecrow shrugged it off, his face going back to normal. "Hey, don't worry about it too much. I mean, no harm, no foul." He smiled, turned to the others. "Okay, team!" he called, getting everyone's attention. "How about the Emerald City, then?"

"But how are we going to get there?" asked Lion. "We've still got a good 80 yard of poppies to get through and DJ, Toto, and I will fall asleep as soon as we reach them."

Scarecrow glanced over at Tin Man, who nodded. "Well," said the former, "as long as _someone_ doesn't panic this time, we should be alright."

"How so?" asked DJ.

"You'll see," he said with a bit of a wicked smile. "Or actually, not." He pushed her into the remaining poppies.

DJ looked slightly surprised, than narrowed her eyes, understanding. "Oh, you bitch," she growled. Then her eyes rolled back and she went to sleep again. Scarecrow moved the weapons on his back so she wouldn't get cut, and then threw her over his shoulder.

"Agh, Tin Man," quivered Lion's voice from behind him. He turned to see the prosthetic man shouldering the much bigger cat the same way, and then reaching down for Toto as well. "I'm scared of heights."

"Don't worry, Lion," said Tin Man, as the two men and their cargo started across the field. "I've got you. And you'll be asleep in about ten feet anyways."


	13. Chapter 13: In which Tin Man sings

"You enjoyed that way too much," said DJ when she woke up again.

Scarecrow put her down. "You mean pushing you? Yeah, I probably did."

"Ass," she muttered, gaining her bearings. The poppy field was well behind them, and she could now make out the gates of Emerald City from the rest of the wall. She shook her head, slightly amazed. She had been so busy looking at the skyscrapers; she hadn't even noticed the wall surrounding the city before. She turned to Tin Man, relieving him of the still sleeping Toto, which only seemed fair since he was also still carrying Lion, as well as his giant ax. "How are you doing that?" she asked.

"Doing what?"

"Carrying him. It took everything Scarecrow and I had just to roll him over."

"Well," he said, scratching his head with the blunt end of his ax. "Prosthetic arms do tend to be a bit stronger than normal."

"Apparently," she said. "Mental note: get prosthetic arms."

"You do realize you'd have to lose your own first?" Scarecrow reminded her.

"And scratch that." She turned her attention back to the city. "That is one huge ass wall." Seriously, how had she missed that before?

"I sort of remember visiting here… before I became a prosthetic man," said Tin Man, his eyes drooping a bit. "I don't remember that wall though."

"It was only built twelve years ago," said Scarecrow. "There wasn't a wall when I lived here, but then the wicked witches came into power and up it went."

"They thought a wall would keep out witches? Don't the witches just, you know, fly over it?"

"Well, yeah. But the wall's not really for the witches." Scarecrow scratched his head through his hat. "It's hard to explain."

"I told you politics are scary," said Lion. He apologized as DJ started a bit. She hadn't noticed him wake up. "People see power. They want power. So they act like those with it." He hung his head a little. "People got mean in a hurry when the witches rose up. Who do the good people have to look up to now? We've got a great and powerful wizard, but he rarely sees anyone. We've got Glinda, but, well… you've meet Glinda."

DJ nodded, remembering. "The wall went up to keep everyone else out," finished Lion.

"That's really quite depressing," said DJ.

It was quiet for a moment, until Toto chose an opportune moment to wake up, startled, bound out of his mistress's arms and try to pick a fight with Lion's foot, which, admittedly, he probably would have won if DJ hadn't stopped him. Conversation resumed and by the time they had reached the gates, the entire group was laughing about something to do with killer bunnies and their pet pirates.

Scarecrow, always using his long legs to make the rest of his team look lazy, was the first to the gate. He tried knocking, but apparently didn't think much of the soft sound he was getting with his straw knuckles, so he stole Tin Man's ax and started hammering on the door with the blunt end of it. "Oy! Open up. Team Badass is trying to make a dramatic entrance here."

A peephole opened far above them and a man stuck his head through. "If you're selling magazines, we don't want any." He shut the hole again.

"Hey!" said Scarecrow. He raised his arm to start beating the door with the ax again, but Tin Man grabbed it from him.

"As well honed as your public relation skills are," he said, "maybe you should let me try this time." Tin Man proceeded to start pounding on the door with the sharp end of the ax. Once a sizeable crack had appeared, the man stuck his head out the peephole again.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Breaking down your door," replied Tin Man.

"No shit!" called the man. "I can see that. Why are you breaking down my door?"

"Well, quite obviously because we need to get in," said the other, still pounding away.

Scarecrow leaned over to the other two. "He was right," he whispered, a hint of awe creeping into his voice. "The man is a public relations god."

The guard was still trying to gain the upper hand in the situation; despite the fact he was being beaten so badly that he was making the French look good. "Will you stop that?"

"No."

"Just who do you think you are?"

Tin Man rested his ax for a moment. "Well, since you were kind enough to ask, I'm Tin Man, that's Lion, that's Scarecrow, the dog is Toto, and this young lady is DJ Gale."

The guard's cheeks had been getting puffier passing moment, but when he heard DJ's name, they popped, making a rather disturbing whoosh sound as they did so. "DJ Gale? The DJ Gale? The girl who killed the witch?"

"That's what they keep telling me," said DJ, sighing. She wished people would drop the whole killing thing. It's not like she had actually contributed to the process at any time.

The guard started smiling, showing his teeth, and the group responded to this display with wishes that he go back to yelling at them. "Well, why didn't you say so?" he beamed, even as they backed away slightly. "That's a horse of a different color. Wait one second and I'll get these doors open."

"Thanks," said Tin Man as the man disappeared.

"A horse of a different color?" asked DJ.

"It means 'that changes things'," explained Lion.

"Like in the song," added Tin Man.

"What song?"

"A Horse of a Different Color, of course. I forget who sings it, but everyone knows it."

"I don't" said DJ. "Sing it for me."

"What? I couldn't."

"Oh, come on, Tin Man. You make me explain my cultural references all the time. The least you could do is sing a few bars in return."

"Well, alright. But just remember that this was supposed to be sung by a girl, so don't judge me." Then he started singing, breaking into a male falsetto which was both prettier and more unnerving than any other singer DJ had heard before. "I cried when I lost you as my lover, I thought there would never be another, but when you admitted you were my brother, well that's a horse of a different color."

DJ laughed. "Okay, that's pretty awesome."

The doors opened at that moment, ruining all chances of hearing an encore, but revealing something even better.

"Holy… green," said DJ. There was really very little left to say. She had assumed that the green skyscrapers and equally green wall had been some sort of publicity stunt to showcase the city's name. They weren't. Everything was green. Half a million shades of the color assaulted her from every angle. It was like St. Patrick's Day, except without beer and loud, out-of-tune drinking songs, and therefore worthless. The buildings were green, the roads were green, the clothing was green, even a couple of the people were green.

DJ took a quick look down at her socks just to make sure other colors did, in fact, exist. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to aforementioned people. They were as diverse as the city's color code was not. She saw humans (or people that looked remarkably like humans at the very least), munchkins, animals on their hind legs like Lion, people made out of metal like Tin Man, and one very strange girl who looked like she had been made out of rags sown together. And that was just what she saw in the first few seconds. It was at that point where she found herself rather surprised to find that the attention of the entire crowd had been turned on the newcomers. "Why are they looking at us?" she whispered to Scarecrow.

"Correction," he said, not bothering to whisper in return. "They're looking at you."

"Fine," the girl snapped back. "Why are they looking at me?"

"Probably because you killed a witch," said Lion, who was half-hiding behind Tin Man in what the others could only conclude was some form of stage fright.

"But I… It was an accid-… How do they even know about that?" DJ was shouting at this point. She had every eye in the crowd on her already. It wasn't like she could draw more attention to herself.

Scarecrow shrugged. "Hey, chill. You know how rumors go. They probably don't even know what really happened. Ten to one says you'll overhear a story about you beating the Wicked Witch of the East to death with an oversized lollypop."

"All things considered, don't you think you should stop making bets?" asked Tin Man.

"Ouch. That was cold man."

Tin Man pointed to himself. "Heartless, remember?"

"Please stop fighting," pleaded Lion from behind Tin Man's back.

"Seconded," said DJ. She looked out at the crowd again. "Might as well get on with it." She stepped up to a man she was pretty sure was a munchkin. They seemed to be a pretty decent sort of people, even if this one was wearing terribly ugly glasses. "Umm… do you know where we can find the wizard?"

That was all the urging the crowd needed to swoop in. Within three seconds, the companions found themselves beset on all sides by screaming fans. There were requests for autographs, promises of free stuff, and some talk of a book deal. DJ distinctly heard at least two different boys propose to her. And, of course, everyone was more than willing to give directions to the wizard, even if they didn't know what the correct directions were.

Luckily, DJ had made a good guess, and the original munchkin man she had stepped up to managed to half-calm-down/ half-beat-the-rest-of-the-crowd into submission so he could actually be helpful. With a sweeping bow, he introduced himself as Harrison De Berg, a name which everyone promptly forgot, and henceforth would only be remembered as "that munchkin with the ugly glasses." DJ and her friends found themselves at the front of a rather odd procession, which began with the munchkin with the ugly glasses and the four people and a dog who were actually following him, and then consisted of most of the population of the Emerald City following behind them at what was almost a respectful distance.

Scarecrow, it seemed, had also made a good guess. DJ overheard at least six different, and all amazingly fallacious, versions of how she had killed the wicked witch. Despite her embarrassment on hearing some of them, she had to admit she was rather fond of the version where she apparently lassoed and hogtied the witch from the back of a giant wolf and then burned her at the stake (12 minutes per pound). As far as her companions were concerned, there was a rather large and nasty debate raging as to whom they actually were. Theories ranged from bodyguards to spirit guides to violent cannibals who were just playing along until they were given the opportunity to sink their teeth into some hero-flesh.

DJ decided it was high time to tune out what the crowd was saying.

After a very long and uneventful parade through the Emerald City, the munchkin with the ugly glasses announced they were nearing the center of the city, and hence the palace of the Wizard of Oz. "Bout damn time," DJ mutter to no one in particular. "How big is this city? We've been walking for over five hours."

"We've actually made pretty good time," said Scarecrow, invading DJ's personal space so he could consult her watch. "It's a huge city. Something like, three times bigger than the next biggest city in Oz."

"Four," corrected their ugly-glasses-clad tour guide.

Scarecrow response was to wave a vague gesture that managed to embody "he is correct," "it doesn't really matter that much," and "over the course of the last few hours, I've secretly grown to loath this munchkin and everything he stands for" all at once. Then he pointed forward. "There it is."

DJ idly wondered how he was able to tell. It looked like every other giant green palace they had passed over the last few hours: a tasteful, pretty commentary on the architect's complete lack of imagination. Still, the crowd following them trickled to a halt as they approached the main door, as did the munchkin with the ugly glasses, signaling the end of the line. "So who wants to handle public relations this time?" DJ asked.

Property damage proved to be unnecessary, however, as the door choose that moment to be thrown open by a gangly redhead in a green uniform that utterly failed to inspire either fear or respect. He gave them a curt salute. "The wizard will see you now."

Elphaba regarded the man across from her with the kind of cold distain that would normally result in her breaking his nose. Business however (even evil business), required a certain restraint, and the hope that maybe tomorrow she could break his nose. The man, known only as "Spike," was ten pounds overweight, greasy, smelled of stale cheddar popcorn, and had an annoying tendency to call her "babe," which wouldn't have been too bothersome if he didn't couple it by telling his friends he found her green skin "kink-tacular." His one redeeming quality was his position as the leader of the best gang of mercenaries in Oz. And the time had come to renew their contract.

"So, babe, not a thing to worry about. You just sign your cute little name right here and we'll be good to go." Spike slid a sheet of paper over to her.

"I'll sign it later," she said, after regarding it for a moment. She handed it to a winged monkey sitting behind her. "I'd like to have my lawyer look over it and make an adjustment or two first."

"The monkey's your lawyer?"

"Considering who wrote it, I don't really think that's going to be an issue, although he might have a few hang-ups on the grammatically errors."

"What can I say, babe," Spike leaned back in his chair. Violence is more fun than writing."

"I'm sure you see it that way." The wicked witch wondered if he was ignoring her insults or just too stupid to catch them. She was leaning towards that latter.

"So," continued Spike, "how do you want the girl done up?" Real quick and to the point, or do ya want us to have a little fun first?

"Never you mind," replied Elphaba. "You're just plan B in all of this."

"Cruel," he said with a grin. "And plan A?"

"Will be set into motion in about an hour," said Elphaba, making a small gesture with her hand under the table, causing Spike to lean too far back in his chair and drop to the floor in a rather nasty, though nonlethal, way. "Just wait and see."


	14. Chapter 14: In which Gandalf pops collar

"I really, really hate this hallway," DJ said as she and her friends walked alone to meet the wizard. The redhead from the front gate had pointed them in the right direction and then left them to their own devices. The hallway in question was exceedingly long, completely unornamented, with tall, arching ceilings and pillars along both sides. "They redid the office wing of my high school sophomore year, and our dean of students made the hallway like this just to make students feel uncomfortable walking down it."

"Oh, I don't know," replied Tin Man, determined to stay chipper. "A little crown molding on the pillars, a bunch of flowers here and there… it has definite possibilities." Toto barked a presumable agreement.

"Nope, still creepy," said Scarecrow, regarding and discarding the mental image. "Looks like you're the swing vote, Lion."

"Umm… I have a fear of large, open spaces," said the remaining group member, eyeing the wall suspiciously.

"Is it just because I'm brainless, or is anyone else both surprised and not surprised at the same time right now?" Scarecrow asked.

"It's everyone," said DJ. She turned to Tin Man. "Sorry, but I think that's three to two on the creepy vote."

"Meh." He nodded forward as they came to a set of double doors at the end of the corridor. "Here we are. Ready?"

"Not really," said DJ, letting some of her trepidation show despite her best efforts to crush it with a sledgehammer of self-esteem.

"I can't look," whimpered Lion, covering his eyes with his massive paws. "Tell me when it's over." Tin Man took this as his cue to throw open the doors and led them into the room.

"Holy damn," said DJ.

"Shiiiittt," said Tin Man.

"Son of a two-cent gutter slut and a man-whoring bitch," said Scarecrow.

Toto growled.

"What is it?" asked Lion, his eye's still shut.

"It's a giant floating head," said DJ.

"…what?"

"A giant floating head. It's just sitting there. Watching us."

"Really?"

"Lion, I'm not even kidding. Just open your eyes. It's a giant floating head," said DJ.

Lion peeked through his claws, before letting his hands fall away. "Oh." True to DJ's insistence, there was a rather large, semi-transparent green head floating about five feet off of a platform before them. It was a man's face, dignifiedly old and slightly balding on top. It appeared to be giving them a once over, but it was hard to tell, as it was immobile, not even blinking. "So, it's kind of like a specter then."

"You seem to be surprisingly okay with this," remarked Scarecrow.

"Well, specters aren't really that scary," Lion replied.

"Really? Out of everything we've been through so far, _this_ is the least scary?" said Scarecrow. Lion shrugged.

"It's actually kind of ugly," said Tin Man, recovered from his original shock.

"Kind of like a love child between Lorne Greene and a Godfather-era Marlon Brando," said DJ.

"This is the kind of face that would benefit exceedingly with the addition of a large paper sack," said Scarecrow.

"You do realize I can hear you, right?" boomed the head, moving for the first time.

"Shit!" DJ, Scarecrow, and Tin Man said simultaneously, diving behind Lion.

Lion remained standing with his paws crossed in front of his chest. He shrugged again. "I remain unimpressed."

"Silence!" demanded the head. "I am the great and powerful Oz! Why have you miserable worms come before me?

DJ poked her head out. "Umm, well-"

"Silence!" roared the head again. "I know why you have come here! What part of great and powerful did you not understand, you wretched buffoons?" DJ muttered something unpleasant under her breath. Then the wizard head continued. "The Scarecrow wants his brain, the Tin Man wants a heart, the Lion wants some courage, and the little girl wants to go home again, is that right?"

"Yes?" said DJ, slightly confused. "So… can you help us?"

"Of course I can help you. What kind of a question is that?" said the wizard. "I am the great and powerful Oz. The question is: will I help you?"

"And, will you?" asked Scarecrow.

"No," said the wizard. "Well, yes. But not right away. You have to do something for me first. That's the way it works. Reciprocity. Brilliant system. You do something for me, and I do something for you in return. Got it?"

"That seems both fair and bitchy of you," said DJ, who was beginning to get more than a little fed up with this whole all-powerful wizard business. "What do you want?"

"You all seem to strike me as the hero-questing-type," replied the wizard. "This beautiful land has been plagued by two wicked witches. Kill one and bring me proof of it, and I will grant your requests."

"Umm, okay. Done and done," said DJ. "I killed the Wicked Witch of the East. Check out her shoes."

"I thought that was an accident and you didn't really do anything," sneered the head.

"… goddamnit," muttered DJ before continuing out loud in a sort of growl. "_Fine_, I guess we'll just go kill the other witch then. Asshole."

Lion grabbed her shoulder. "You mean you want us to go try and kill the evil magic woman who's out to destroy us all?" he whispered in alarm.

"Ah, there you are Lion," said Scarecrow. "I was beginning to think you'd been replaced by an evil twin with much more backbone. And yes, I do believe that's what she was insinuating with her cunningly veiled references."

"Can we just go now?" said DJ, now entire fed up and out of patience. She led the others back out the door where they had come in.

"And you can bring her broomstick back as proof," the wizard called to their backs. DJ tried to flip him off, but the door had already clanged shut.

"Well this is just fantastic," said DJ, pacing outside the doorway. "Some great wizard you guys have got there. I wonder if all kindly mages are really this big of douches once you meet them. I'll bet Gandalf was actually a womanizer who popped his collar all the time. And Dumbledore was from the freaking Jersey Shore."

"First of all, we don't have a clue who those people are," said Tin Man. "And secondly, maybe this isn't how he is normally. I mean, you did kill one witch, even if it was inadvertently. Maybe he thinks you can kill the second one as well. And if you do, Oz will be free. There'll be peace again. That's worth coming off as a bit of a jerk in my opinion. Besides, it's not like any of us are exactly fans of the witch to begin with."

"True," sighed DJ. "But still."

The group was saved the awkward silence that was sure to follow such a statement by a very energetic green-haired girl popping up out of freaking nowhere. "Hi! I'm Trixie. I'm one of the wizard's personal assistants.

"Umm, hi," replied DJ.

"I hear that you've all been sent on a quest to kill the Wicked Witch of the West. That's just wonderful. You must feel so honored. Now, I'm sure you'll want to set out in the morning, but in the meantime, you're all the personal guests of the wizard. We've arranged a set of rooms for you at the Almond Leaf Resort and Spa, with full complimentary access to any amenity the resort offers. Oh, if that will be satisfactory, of course?"

"Wait, free spa?" said DJ. "I changed my mind. I think I'm starting to like this wizard."

"Told you," said Tin Man, his eyes gleaming.

"Great!" replied Trixie. "If you would just follow me then." She guided the group outside, where everyone was quite pleased to discover a complete lack of crowd.

"You know, I think I'll actually catch up with you guys later," said Scarecrow, heading in the opposite direction as the rest.

"Where are you going?" asked DJ.

"Well, spas aren't really my thing to begin with," said Scarecrow. "Besides, Shiz University is just a few blocks this way. I figured I'd go spy on little sis as long as we're in town."

"Oh, right. Aubrey." said DJ. "Have fun."

"I hope so," said Scarecrow, turning away. "But when is it ever that easy?"


	15. Chapter 15: In which a pot breaks

The Wicked Witch of the West stood on a balcony, watching as one of her winged monkey messengers returned with a present from one of her Emerald City spies. Upon reaching her, he dropped a pouch into her hands and flew off again, not bothering to wait for the thanks both parties knew would never come.

The witch ripped open the drawstrings, squealing like a fan-girl as she saw the contents. Carefully, she reached in and withdrew a lock of mahogany hair. "So, DJ Gale, what can you tell me about you?"

XZXZX

When DJ and Toto arrived at the rooms set aside for them at the Almond Leaf Resort later that night, they found that only Scarecrow and the weapons Trixie had taken to be sharpened had beaten them back. "Hey, you."

"Hey," said Scarecrow, so startled out of his trance on the sofa that he accidentally let a compliant slip out. "You look nice."

DJ beamed. Her spa day had consisted of a blissfully long bubble bath while her clothes got cleaned and pressed, a manicure and pedicure, a haircut, and a very strange sort of pampering called "your-you-ness" which consisted of her sitting on a throne while random people came up and complimented her. It was quite enjoyable. "Thanks. How was your field trip?"

"Mind if I save it till the others get back?" asked Scarecrow, settling back on the couch. "I really do hate going over these things twice."

DJ scoffed a little as she sat down on the other couch. "All right, my international man of mystery. Have it your way."

"What do you mean, 'international man of mystery'?"

"Just that you're mysterious, that's all."

"Please. I'm hardly mysterious. I've already told you all about my deep dark past."

"Oh yes," said DJ. "Your back-story. The one in which you conveniently forgot to actually mention your real name." DJ watched in slight amusement as he looked everywhere in the room where she wasn't. "I see you didn't think I picked up on that little deletion."

"I told you my name," defended Scarecrow.

"Right. I'm really supposed to believe that your parents named their children Aubrey and Scarecrow. And even if by some general rule of weirdness that were true, what about a last name?"

"Okay, fine," said Scarecrow. "So I left out one or two little details." DJ scoffed again, but Scarecrow continued before she could reply. "It's not like it's an uncommon occurrence with us. Lion didn't give us a last name. And Tin Man didn't give any name."

"That's because Tin Man can't remember his name," said DJ. "And Lion doesn't have a last name. He's like Cher."

"Whatever," said Scarecrow, frowning.

"Hey, relax," said DJ. She honestly had not meant to upset him. "I was just making idle conversation. Just pointing out that you are, in fact, an enigma, wrapped up in a mystery, tied together with a secret. If you want to stay that way, it's fine. None of my business."

"Exactly," snapped Scarecrow. "None of your business."

"Jeez," said DJ. "What's got you all hot and bothered?"

For the briefest of all possible moments, Scarecrow looked actually angry. It was gone as quickly as it had come, like coming up with a brilliant answer to a particularly tricky essay question and then forgetting it as soon as you put pen to paper. He shook his head rather sadly. "It's just been one of those days." Then he lapsed back into his trance.

It was not much longer before Tin Man and Lion showed up. "Oh, Lion," sympathized DJ as the latter walked through the door. He was sporting a rather large and unruly blue bow on the top of his mane.

"I was too scared to tell her not to," he said, sinking down to the floor in shame. Tin Man took the opportunity to begin struggling to get the thing off. At least the rest of the big cat looked better. Whatever grooming he had been up to had hidden the patches where his fur was missing, and his claws had been polished and sharpened till they gleamed. Tin Man had also been polished, and oiled, if the lack of noise coming from his joints was any indication.

"Was it that little tin girl who was sweeping up hair and kept giggling to herself?" DJ asked. Lion nodded. "Yeah. She kept trying to put one in Toto's hair too. Super annoying."

"Well, not all prosthetic people can be as awesome as me," said Tin Man. A few seconds later he let out a small victory cheer as the bow came out. He tossed it to Toto to chew up. "But, Scarecrow, how'd it go with Aubrey?"

"Not well," said Scarecrow, kneading his forehead with his knuckles. "Aubrey's missing."

"What?" exclaimed three voices and a bark all at once.

"Are you sure?" asked Tin Man, worried.

"Pretty sure," replied Scarecrow, he rubbed his forehead again, wishing for a brain to help him sort through this mess. "I pretended to be a student working on a project with her so I could talk to her roommate. Apparently she took off last weekend to go visit our parents in Winkie Country."

"So what's wrong with that?" asked DJ.

"Our parents live in Gillikin Country."

"That would be an issue then," said DJ.

"So what are we going to do?" asked Lion.

"I don't know," said Scarecrow, standing. "I don't even know if I should be worried. I mean, I haven't spoken to my family in over a year. It's entirely possible they could have moved again. Or Aubrey's roommate could have misheard her. Or maybe she was lying for some other perfectly innocent and not at all suspicious reason. I just don't know." He stalked out towards the balcony. "I need air."

"What now?" asked Tin Man in a whisper.

"I'll talk to him," volunteered DJ. "I owe him an apology anyway. You guys go get some sleep. Big day and all that."

Tin Man and Lion agreed, and headed off towards the bedrooms, taking Toto with them. DJ waited until they had both disappeared into their rooms before she followed Scarecrow out to the balcony. He was looking out over the city, an impressive sight even at night. The green lights gave off a slightly eerie yet comforting glow, much like the feeling a young girl might get if an alien gave her chocolate. Neither said anything for a while, leaning against the balcony ledge: Scarecrow lost in the night sky and his own disjointed thoughts, DJ abnormally intrigued by a small melodrama playing out between a lady of the night and her business manager a few streets away. After the woman slapped her partner and sauntered off, DJ chose to break the silence. "I'm sorry."

Scarecrow looked rather surprised. "For what?"

Now it was DJ's turn to be surprised. "For getting on your case about nothing. For bugging you when you have a bunch of other stuff to worry about. For your sister. For… well, more or less everything I've said since I walked into the room fifteen minutes ago."

"I fail to see how any of that is really your fault. Besides, you did make kind of a good point about me."

"At the worst possible moment."

"Yeah, your timing did kind of suck." Scarecrow glanced at an empty flowerpot resting on the ledge next to him. He pushed it off and watched it break on the street below. "That was fun. Anyway, you didn't know, so don't feel so bad." He paused. "And… about the whole mystery thing…"

"You should totally keep it up," interrupted DJ, fending the tension off with the proverbial stick.

"What?"

"Oh yeah," she said, only half sarcastically. "Tall, mysterious brooding types are totally in this year. Too bad you're not a vampire. You wouldn't be able to keep the girls off you."

Scarecrow gave a small, almost sincere laugh. "Thanks."

"So what are we going to do about Aubrey?"

"'We'?"

"Hells yes, 'we'." DJ gave him a look. "We're Team Questing-hero-type. Remember? Me, you, Lion, Tin Man, and Toto too. We're all in."

"Okay, if that's the team name, I'm quitting." Scarecrow gave her a half smile. "And thank you."

She smiled back. "Anytime." There was a silence as they stared into each other's eyes. There they were: two friends, on a balcony, at night, with a beautiful green city stretched out beneath them. It was that kind of moment where anything could happen. "…so… plan."

Scarecrow sighed, turning. "Yeah. I've got to think about that." He shrugged, "and since I need a brain to think, we're going to go, kill that witch, collect our reward, and then go from there."

"Sounds good to me."

"Oh, don't be so sure about that. You see, I'm not going to go easy on you anymore," grinned Scarecrow. He eyed the newly sharpened scythe and katana sitting next to Tin Man's ax in the sitting room. "I'll let you carry it tomorrow if you can land a hit before bed."

"Bring it on, stick boy," laughed DJ. "I cut off your arm once and I'll do it again."

"Oh, now it's on," said Scarecrow, racing her into the next room.

XZXZX

"'Ello, Babe," said Spike, wandering into Elphaba's room. "What's my pretty lady up to?"

"Reading," replied Elphaba curtly, hunching down further over her cauldron. "Go away."

"Now, now," said Spike. "I'll be here and gone in a flash. I just wanted to go over the new contract your… lawyer drew up." He hefted the fifty bound pages he had been handed a few minutes early.

"Then take it up with my lawyer."

Spike eyed the flying monkey who had followed him into the room. "He seems a bit quiet."

"Oh, he can talk. He just doesn't like to. Now leave."

"The contract?"

"Oh, just sign it," sighed the wicked witch. Sparks from the fire leapt a little bit in response to her annoyance. "It says basically the same thing as yours did. Same time period, same pay, just better wording."

"If Babe says so." He took out a pen and flipped to the back page, making an illegible scrawl over the indicated line. The winged monkey immediately hopped forward and took the pages away for filing. "What's all this for anyway?" he asked, indicating the mess the witch had created around her cauldron.

"Scare tactics," said Elphaba, smiling for the first time. "I'm all about the scare tactics."


End file.
